


The Right Kind of Wrong

by Noenoe



Category: True Blood (TV)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 08:03:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 33,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20206417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noenoe/pseuds/Noenoe
Summary: Ylva Grimm is on her own mission in Bon Temps.  Sent to protect Eric Northman she must hide in the shadows and navigate the mess started by Bill Compton.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own True Blood. I just like to play a bit.

The silence was near deafening. If not for the sound of the car’s engine and the weird music coming from the car radio, which sounded to Ylva like a herd of cows being strangled, then she would have thought she had gone deaf. The tension between Sookie and Bill in the front seats were uncomfortable.

Since the moment Sookie met Bill, she had been fascinated and enamored with the 155 year old vampire. His mind was silent to her and whenever she came close to him, his silence drowned out the voices of those around her. Making her feel something akin to being normal, making her feel less like a freak and letting her forget her disability for a while. She had refused to hear any negative thoughts about the vampire. Going so far as to end her lifelong friendship with Tara Thornton.

She could abide many a thing. She had been forced to listen to the horrible thoughts of those around her. From cussing to cheating to spousal abuse to the nastiest of sex thoughts, but she absolutely refused to abide rudeness in her own home. And Tara had been nothing but rude and obnoxious ever since Bill Compton set foot in Merlotte’s.

The last straw had been Tara’s outburst, interrupting her Gran, demanding that Bill confirm that he had owned slaves when he was still human. Sookie and Tara had been friends since they were little girls. Sookie never treated Tara any different just because her Mama was a drunk and they were even poorer than the Stackhouse family. Tara was like her sister, she had been a better friend and sibling to her than her own brother was.

Time and again she helped Tara escape her Mama’s home. Time and again she helped Tara financially, even though she could hardly afford too, since Tara had once again had either quit her job or had been fired, because she was rude. She had to pick up the pieces each and every time Tara hooked up with the wrong man and she had to escape the relationship with barely the clothes on her back. But she never blamed Tara for any of her shortcomings. She never told Tara off for seeing somebody she knew was bad news. But had Tara displayed the same decency towards her? No, she tried to force Sookie to stop seeing Bill.

So what if she was a little bit angry with Bill at the moment? It still had nothing to do with anybody in Bon Temps. She was sure that all couples had their little tiffs now and again. The good Lord knows, she remembers that her own parents had their own number of rows, usually regarding Sookie, her strangeness and the money it was costing them to try and fix Sookie. But nobody told her Mama that her Daddy was no good and that she best leave him. Her Daddy never laid a finger on her Mama, he always treated her with love and respect, even when they were fighting.

And the only reason she was a bit angry with Bill, disappointed in him too, if she had to be honest, but it was only because of those other three vampires that he had allowed into his home. Those horrible cruel vampires, who brought fangbangers into his home, who terrorized her, tried to glamour her and feed off her. She was not like those two. She was a good Christian girl, a real lady and an honest to goodness Southern Belle and she expected to be treated as such. Never mind that she had been dreaming of finally losing her virginity, at the ripe old age of twenty six, to Bill Compton. It still did not equate her to those fangbangers with their lose moral values. It still did not make her any less of a good Southern Christian lady and she expected and demanded to be treated as such.

She was only punishing him a bit for it, lest Bill ever forget where he came from. That is why she had insisted that this was not a date and why she had insisted to bring Ylva with them. With Tara now cut from her life, she only had Ylva left as a friend. Besides, she and Gran took the girl practically under their wings, when Ylva showed up in Bon Temps two years ago. Nineteen years old and even more innocent in the matters of the flesh than Sookie herself. And much to Sookie’s delight, Ylva was also a telepath, even though she had been able to hide it better and nobody but she and her Gran knew of Ylva’s own disability. It also kind of helped that Ylva looked like she could really be Sookie’s sister. Ylva had golden blonde hair as opposed to Sookie’s more dirty blonde hair. Ylva had blue eyes as opposed to Sookie’s brown eyes. But Sookie was at least taller than Ylva and nobody ever mistook her for a school girl, which frequently happens to Ylva. And with Ylva also being a telepath, they may just find the real killer or at the very least clues as to the identity of the real killer that much faster.

If only Jason was not such an idiot and a horn dog. But, like Gran always tells Jason, he really was not the brightest crayon in the pack, but it still did not mean he should just let his brain take up space between his ears. But Jason was still her brother and he did not murder either Maudette or Dawn.

Bill, for his part, sat silently fuming at the arrogant and stubborn human next to him. He should have wrapped his mission up the first night he set foot in Merlotte’s. But the little idiot proved to be immune to his glamour. And then she refused his blood, which forced him to rope in the Rattrays once again and glamour them to beat Sookie within an inch of her life. He finally got his blood in her, but still she was a tough nut to crack. Which meant he was forced to gain Sookie’s trust and friendship. His orders were clear, Sookie was to belong to his Queen. He was to deliver her unharmed to New Orleans, by any means.

As much as he detested pretending to mainstream and treating humans as his equal, he was wondering if he could not be able to keep Sookie for himself. Of course they would still go to New Orleans, Bon Temps was such a backwards little hovel. And of course Sookie would still work as a telepath for Sophie-Anne, but only he would be allowed to drink from her. The plan had slowly taken shape after he first tasted her blood. She would belong to him and only him. He was rather reluctant to share her blood and body with those around him. It did not mean he suddenly loved her or even cared for her, she was nothing more than a blood bag, but he was never one to share his toys.

Bill was more than willing to admit, if only to himself, that he had always been a selfish person. Even when still alive, he had always been selfish. He was the only child of the wealthy Compton family. His father had been an only child as well, quite rare during those days. If only the South did not lose the damned Civil War, the Compton family would still be rich and influential. Instead the war had impoverished them, leaving his wife and children near destitute. A blow they had never truly recovered from, which brought him to the present. Forced to live in a dilapidated mansion. Filled with vermin and mold. Forced to sleep like a peasant in the dirt, since his old family home was neither secure from the sun nor intruders during the day.

And now the little fool of a human was not only forcing him to take her to Fangtasia, so that she could investigate, but forced him to bring Ylva Grimm with them. He did not care for the younger human. She did not seem to trust him, but had been smarter than Tara, who just could not keep her opinions to herself. Thus far Ylva had not uttered one negative word against him. His other reason for hating to go to Fangtasia was Eric Northman, Sheriff of Area 5. He still seethed over the humiliation he and Lorena had suffered at the hands of Northman in 1905. He had still that score to settle and if there was something Bill exceeded at, it was holding onto a grudge. His grudge against Northman had forced Bill to beg and demand that Lorena set him free, it had forced him to travel to New Orleans and beg Sophie-Anne to accept him in her nest. 

Through the years he had to demean himself, in a bid to endear him to the spoiled Queen of Louisiana. He had to perform one demeaning task after the after, groveling and begging like a pauper, but he had clawed his way to the top. He was her top procurer. No job had been too big or too small to handle. And now it had been him to be sent, in secret to Bon Temps, to secure a coveted telepath for the Queen. The other procurers had foamed at the mouth, but finally it had been him that had been chosen. Of course, with Bon Temps being his old stomping grounds certainly assisted in him securing the assignment, but Bill knew, it was his reputation, his successes that finalized the assignment. 

Soon he would have everything his blackened little heart had desired. Queen Sophie Anne was bleeding money. The IRS breathing down her neck, waiting to claim their pound of flesh. The Authority was losing their patience with her legal battles and the negative publicity she was sure to gain if, no, when, the IRS finally drag her undead little ass to court and charge her with tax evasion. And who would be waiting in the wings to take over as King of Louisiana? William Thomas Compton, of course. Having Nan Flanagan in his corner did not harm his claim and aspirations either.

The parking lot was packed with vehicles, humans milled around in the parking lot. Loud music blasted from inside the club, adding to the excited frenzy of the humans on the outside. Bill grabbed both woman by the hand, dragging them to the front. He will not stand in line like some useless blood bag.

Ylva gritted her teeth. She hated when people touched her. She did not like it when people touched her and she definitely did not want Bill Compton’s paws anywhere near her body. She had to suppress the urge to stab the bastard in the eye, it would not kill him, but it sure would hurt the boring dead fucker.

Pam was at the door, screening the humans who wished to enter Fangtasia. As she turned yet again another underaged little cretin away, she spotted the trio. Bill Compton and two very obvious human females. Both were quite pretty and she was sure Eric would be excited as to the prospect of fresh meat in the club. She briefly wondered how the fuck a douchebag like Compton had managed to secure to such very pretty little morsels by his side. Clamoring can only get a vampire so far. On closer inspection it seems that only one of the blonde women was very attached to Compton. 

She observed the body language of not only Compton, but his companions as well. Compton still looked as disheveled as ever, a hulking skulking beast of a vampire. Of all the things his crazy Maker had taught him, could she not teach him a little bit of pride in his appearance? For the love of… he was a vampire, one who had over a hundred years to amass at least a semblance of a fortune, but he still seemed like a vagrant. And one of those crazy vagrants who used to roam the streets in her human life, smelling like piss, shit and vomit, screaming that the bird men were coming to kill them all. This was the poster boy of mainstreaming? He looked more like the poster boy for “Stranger Danger”.

Pam’s eyes shifted next to the taller of the two blonde women. She was clearly very comfortable with Compton touching her. In fact the grip he had on her hand was almost, dare she say it, loving and gentle. She kept looking at the creep next to her and Pam could swear she could see the little pink and red cartoon hearts streaming from her eyes.

The shorter of the humans did not want Compton to touch her. Pam could see the human’s fingers nearly turning blue from the grip on her hand. It seemed rather painful and Pam had to stop herself from rushing over and slapping the ever loving snot from Compton. How dare he hurt her? She shook her head. Now where did that come from? It was not as if she cared about humans or werewolves or werepanthers or shifters or even other vampires. She cared about Eric and she cared about herself. She was a sarcastic bitch with a block of ice where her heart should be.

“Bill Compton. What brings you to Fangtasia tonight?”

Bill sneered at the progeny of Eric Northman. Besides the Viking himself, he hated Pam the most. He plastered the most fake smile in the history of fake smiles on his face. If Pam could vomit she would have. She was fairly certain Compton believed that this smile was charming, but to Pam it just seemed oily and sickening and somewhat perverted.

“Why, good evening Pam. I came to check in with Eric, since I plan to make Area 5 my home and brought my two lovely friends with me. They had been so very eager to see your charming little establishment.”

Pam really wanted to stake Bill Compton. He was still as much of a pompous and boring little asshole as he had been back in 1905 when she first had the displeasure of making his acquaintance. Pam rather turned her attention to the two humans. 

“Identification.”

Sookie raised her eyebrow. Was she being carded? She could understand if the vampire at the door wanted to card Ylva, but she was clearly not a minor. She suddenly felt flattered. Rummaging through her purse for her drivers’ license Sookie asked, “So how old do you think I am if you want to see my identification?”

Pam rolled her eyes again, “I don’t know. Forty?”

Sookie was incensed, how dare this leather clad hussy of a vampire think she was forty years old? Finally locating her driver’s license she shoved it in Pam’s hand before snarling “I am twenty six.”

“Twenty six? How sweet life must be. No offence, but it is difficult for vampires to gauge the age of humans.”

“So why card me if you think I’m forty?”

“Well Princess,” Pam drawled, “We abide to the laws. And law says that we must card visitors to our club and because, like I said, vampires have difficulty in guessing the age of humans, we card them. We do not want to break the law, now do we?”

“So if I come back next week will you card me again?”

Pam tapped the side of her head.

“No sugar. You’re in my vault now.”

Pam turned her attention to Ylva. 

“Now you, cupcake, I really need to card.”

Ylva smiled at the black leather clad vampire in front of her, handing her driver’s license over. She was used to this, it was not her fault she looked like she just celebrated her sixteenth birthday and her length really did not help matters.

“Here you go.”

Pam nearly whistled. Eric would really like this one. Fuck, she nearly dropped fang at the sight of the girl, no sorry woman, in front of her. She took a gentle sniff. Lord heavens above, the smell of her, it was absolutely divine and she was innocent, a virgin. No human or vampire has ever tasted her.

Sookie was a bit put out. First Pam thought she was forty and now she was practically drooling at the sight of Ylva.

“So if you thought I was forty, how old did you guess Ylva was?”

Pam tore her eyes from Ylva. She looked Sookie up and down, memorizing her face and the smell of her, she also smelled good, not as nice as Ylva, but sweet enough.

“I thought Bill here was trying to sneak in your sixteen year old sister.” 

With a slight huff Sookie dragged Bill inside. Ylva had finally managed to rip her hand from Bill’s. The idiot damn near broke every bone in her right hand. 

“Wow, so this is what a vampire bar looks like?”

Sookie was part fascinated and part repulsed by the interior of the club. Everything was either red or black. Loud music blasted from hidden speakers. Humans and vampires alike mingled together. The vampires only discernable in their choice of drink, True Blood, from the human clientele. In one corner was a table laden with souvenirs, containing clothing (red t-shirts with Fangtasia’s logo printed on, lacey and very racy red underwear and baseball caps), mugs (red with black Fangtasia lettering or black with the word Fangtasia in red), novelty key chains, Dracula bobble heads and vampire related posters. Movie posters, promoting vampire movies through the ages, from “Nosferatu” to “30 Days of Night”. It was clearly an altar to all things vampire. It was both tacky and scary. Sookie really did not like the place. It was the first time she had ever entered a nightclub and this may very well be the last time. At least vampire minds were silent to her, the human minds were horrible enough. Every last human in the club had dark thoughts about vampires, blood, sex and some blonde vampire man. Not one thought about Maudette Pickens or Dawn Green. Not one thought of killing anybody.

Ylva followed the couple to the bar. She could not help but wonder what Sookie had hoped to find in Fangtasia. Did she really think that she would find the killer here? A killer who just happened to be thinking of killing Maudette and Dawn and framing Jason for their murders the moment she entered the club? Ylva knew Sookie also thought that maybe a vampire had been responsible for their deaths. Which was just stupid. Both women would have been drained if a vampire had been their killer. A vampire would not have strangled them and just leave all that blood there. And a vampire would not have been stupid enough to leave evidence behind. 

At the bar Sookie quickly ordered a gin and tonic. Bill only ordered a True Blood (O Negative) after a rather pointed look from the barman. Ylva ordered a cranberry juice. She was never one for drinking and getting drunk. Which made her quite the anomaly in her family. Her family always believed in the three “F’s”. According to them, the three “F’s” were the answer to any question. Fighting, Feasting and Fucking. Ylva tolerated the feasts, although she never drank, she liked to keep her wits about her. Ylva was still a virgin, she refused to sow her wild oats before settling down, Ylva had decided long ago that the only man who would share her bed would be her soulmate. But Ylva had always loved and reveled in the fighting. Her father would ruffle her hair and smile while telling her “Well honey, one out of three is not bad. Besides, you are my baby, no man will ever be good enough for you.”

Sookie took a big gulp from her drink before removing the pictures of Maudette and Dawn from her purse.

“Have you seen these two women before?”

Long Shadow took a look at the pictures. Of course he had seen the two women before. Both had been regulars at Fangtasia. He had fed and fucked both of them. So had nearly every vampire in Shreveport. Not that he would be willing to tell the human in front of him that. He was not that stupid. They all heard the women had been murdered. And humans had a tendency to go overboard. They wanted to hang somebody for the crime. And if they could pin the murders on a vampire? Next up would be pitchforks and fire. Humanity may have advanced in the last hundred years, but in some things they were still stuck in the dark ages.

“Yeah, I’ve seen them here before. What of it?”

Sookie tapped the pictures.

“Both of them are dead. Murdered. So with who did ya’ll see them with?”

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you,” if Long Shadow had the sudden urge to confess that he had been one of many vampires, both male and female, who had tasted these to fangbangers, the urge had passed, “Do you see how busy we are? And tonight is a slow night. I make it my business to get to know regulars and the type of drinks they wanted. Makes ‘em feel special and makes them tip me more. So, yeah, I’ve seen them in here. Ordering their drinks, dancing, laughing, having a good time and then leaving.”

Pointing to Maudette’s picture he said, “This one liked beer. The cheaper the better. And the other had a taste for martinis. Ms Beer tipped real shitty, but Ms Martini she tipped real nice. That is all I know about them. So, if you’ll excuse me, I am busy.”

With that Long Shadow turned his back on Sookie. He had better things to do than spill the secrets of Fangtasia. He would rather confess to Eric that he had been stealing from him, than tell this human exactly how many vampires these two women had allowed near them. 

Ylva shook her head at the utter stupidity of Sookie. Did she really think she was going to waltz into Fangtasia and find the killer within five seconds? And expecting a barman to spill the secrets of his clients? She would have better luck walking into Fort Knox and helping herself to a few gold bars.

Bill steered the two women to one of the few open tables in the club. Sookie sat there, staring wide eyed at everything around her. The writhing mass of dancers on the dance floor, the vampire dancers on the little platforms around the club, their movements sometimes slow and sensual and sometimes speeding up, making them look distorted and alien.

Bill kept an eye on Northman. Pam had left the door and was now standing behind her Maker, whispering something in his ears. The music drowned out their voices, but even with his vampire hearing he could not understand them, since they were conversing in what Bill believed to be Swedish. Maybe he should take the time to learn the language, but learning French had  
been difficult enough and he started learning the damn language when he had still been human.

While Sookie and Bill were chatting amongst themselves, Ylva spent the time scanning the club. She was not looking for the killer, but it had never harmed to know the intentions of those around her. Sookie could only read human minds and only then their surface thoughts, if she wanted to go deeper into their minds, she had to make physical contact with them. Vampires’ minds were a void to her, hence her attachment to Bill Compton, but Ylva believed Sookie was either falling or already in love with the skulking creep. She was not too sure about her supernaturals, but Ylva did know that Sookie could read Sam’s mind, but with great difficulty and only when either she really concentrated on what Sam may be thinking or Sam himself was subconsciously broadcasting his thoughts. As for Ylva, her mind was as silent as a vampire’s to Sookie.

No mind was silent to Ylva, although she could block them all of the mental voices out if she chose to. Not even vampire minds, not that she would willingly share that piece of information to random vampires. Vampires valued and guarded their secrets with a possessive ferociousness which outstripped that of a leprechaun guarding his horde of treasures. If and when Ylva decided to share her gifts with vampires, Bill Compton would be the last fucking vampire she would be sharing secrets with. She was very well aware of Compton’s real interest in Sookie. She knew that Queen Sophie-Anne’s favourite pet was Hadley, cousin to Sookie. She knew Hadley had spilled the beans about her crazy cousin and her freakishness. She knew Compton was Sophie Anne’s most favourite and efficient procurer. And she knew that Compton was secretly plotting the downfall of his Queen and his dreams of becoming the new King of Louisiana, all because he was jealous of Eric Northman, Sheriff of Area 5 and co-owner of Fangtasia. 

She knew also that Maudette and Dawn’s killer was a human and resident of Bon Temps. Only two residents of Bon Temps made her uneasy in the little town. One was Sam Merlotte, her current employer, not that she needed the money as much as she needed the cover. She knew Sam’s history was a rather dark and disturbing one. Abandoned by his adoptive parents at age fifteen when he shifted for the very first time. His years of breaking into people’s homes and robbing them blind. His run in with a maenad at age seventeen. Moving onto bigger paydays than robbing homes. The murder of what he had believed was his lover and her partner and true lover. He has never killed again and have since then settled down in Bon Temps and reformed himself into a well-respected small business owner, but the volatile temper simmered beneath the surface. Not to mention he was somewhat of a pervert and mildly obsessed with Sookie. He also hated vampires and werewolves with a passion. His hatred towards vampires however did not mean he wanted to murder women who had sexual contact with vampires.

The other was Rene Lenier. He seemed like quite the people person. Deeply in love and devoted to Arlene. Good to her children too. He loved them as if they were his own. Always ready with a helping hand and a friendly smile. Hell, he did not even think nasty things about Maxine Fortenberry and that there was a woman who could drive the Pope to violence and swearing. But there was something off with Rene. Verbally he sounded like a Cajun, mentally no hint of an accent. Which was strange, but not unheard of. Ylva had encountered a number of people with a different mental voice than their verbal one. But usually it was the mental voice with the accent and not the verbal one. The part of Rene, which made Ylva cautious of him, was however a part which seemed to be locked away in his mind. Whenever Ylva entered his mind she found, what could only be described as a locked room in his mind. The door was thick and impregnable and covered from top to bottom in a variety of heavy locks. Whatever was hidden in that room must be so horrific that he had maimed himself and his own mind, just to ensure the hidden part never escaped.

She quickly picked up on the thoughts of the undercover cop. His hatred for vampires ran deep, he was not yet a hardcore follower of Steve Newlin, but he was well on his way to join the Fellowship of the Sun. Those bigots made the members of the Westboro Baptist Church seem tame in comparison. He had been coming to Fangtasia, scoping the place out and planting evidence of wrong doing and the cops were planning to raid the club tonight. What the idiot did not know was that Eric and Pam made their human staff clean the club daily, from top to bottom, no nook or cranny overlooked and all his carefully placed “evidence” had been destroyed already. He also did not bring any further evidence this evening, since he had to stop by the precinct first before entering the club and thought that his little hidden stashes of a variety of drugs, which somehow also included vials of V, would be sufficient. His ploy may have worked with other establishments in the past, but this Einstein never encountered vampires before and he most certainly did not encounter either Pam or Eric before.

Eric was bored. He was bored of being bored. He hated sitting here on the throne, posturing for the vermin, but he knew he was nothing more than eye candy for the vermin. They came here to see him, to lust after him. They tried night after night to grab his attention, all ready to spread their legs and expose their throats. Sometimes he would sample one of the vermin. Mostly he sat on his throne looking either bored, disgusted or seemingly aloof. And the more disgusted or bored he looked, the more the vermin tried to impress him and the more money they spent at the bar and souvenir stand.

He had noticed the entrance of Compton and his two human companions. How could he not? Compton was his current major headache in Area 5, the little bastard had snuck into his area and took up residence in his old family home. He has been there for nearly six months now, skulking in the shadows, so impressed with his skills, never even realizing Eric knew he was there. Compton still have not learned that there was no behind Eric Northman’s back. What troubled him was Compton’s sudden departure from Sophie-Anne’s court. Not even his spy could learn the real reason. Rumours fled from Sophie-Anne’s court faster than the money the petulant monarch could spend and she had turned spending money on useless shit into an art form.

The prevalent rumour was that Compton had angered Sophie Anne with his constant insolence and defiance of her rule. That was the biggest load of bullshit Eric had heard in all of his thousand years and a bit on earth. Compton was many things: creepy, sulking, skulking, boring, boorish, petulant, cruel, a pathological liar, suffering from delusions of grandeur, psychopathic, schizophrenic, dull and wooden. He was prone to inflict his over inflected false Southern accent, fake smile, piety and horribly outdated sense of fashion and side burns on the unsuspecting public. He also tortured the unsuspecting with his amateurish piano playing and screeching singing voice. But he was never insolent or defiant to those he pledged his allegiance to. For the love of Odin and all the old Gods, the prick had stayed with Lorena, following her around like a love struck child until he finally realized he would never be respected by the vampire community and Authority as long as he stays with her. True, he had disappeared for a while, but Eric suspected that Compton had hidden himself somewhere in the human world, until he was sure Lorena had lost interest and moved on to someone new, before resurfacing in Louisiana as the newest procurer for Sophie Anne.

Pam swept towards him, giving his shoulder a squeeze. She knew her Maker hated being on display on the fucking throne, but his mere presence was good for business. And what was good for business was good for the Queen and excellent for the Authority. 

Leaning down, she whispered into his ear, switching to Swedish since nobody else in the club could understand them.

“Den främsta krypningen har äntligen glidit in i vår klubb för att presentera sig själv. Han har okså tagit med sig två väldigt älskvärda luktande människor.” (The prime creep has finally slithered into our club to present himself. He has also brought two very delectable smelling humans with him)

Eric nodded his head. Pam disliked Bill Compton even more than he did. Their favourite code word when speaking about him was “The prime creep”.

“Jag såg, Jag låter honom gryta lite innan jag kaller honom.” (I saw. I’ll let him stew a bit before summoning him.)

Pam stayed by his side, waiting for Eric to summon Bill and his humans to the throne. From the corner of her eye she saw one of the regulars slowly making his way towards Eric. So Duke (not that the pathetic little vermin had been aptly named) had finally scraped enough bravado together to approach her Maker. Maybe it was time to glamour dear old Duke into never returning to Fangtasia. He was desperate to be turned and not one single vampire wanted the little worm as a child, they barely tolerated him to feed from and rarely even fucked him. 

Duke had finally reached the dais. Tonight was the night he was going to feed Eric and if he was lucky Eric will consent to fuck him and if he was really lucky then Eric would turn him. He had read his horoscope this morning and it promised him an auspicious day in which all his dreams will be realized. 

Duke Lexington had always been an awkward child. He was not well liked, not even by his own parents. His mother had named him Duke in an effort to placate her lover, hoping that the cowboy from Texas will finally leave his wife for her. Which had never happened and his mother died alone and bitter a few months after Duke’s eighteenth birthday. 

He was always the odd one out. The loner. The boy who never received an invitation to a birthday party, the boy who was always chosen last during Phys Ed, the boy who never had a date growing up, who never attended any of the school dances. Not Junior Prom, not Homecoming and most certainly not Senior Prom. There had been nothing in his life he had been good at, he could not even claim that although he sucks at sport at least he had his brains. Each year he scraped through the grades, achieving the bare minimum to pass and advance to the next grade. After school he started working at a local Seven Eleven and at age forty five he was still working there.

The only highlight in his life had been when the vampires came out of the coffin. Finally he found something he could be good at. He just knew he would be an excellent vampire. He was born to be a vampire. And once he was turned, he would dominate all those jocks and beauty queens who had spurned him growing up. He would finally be the one with all the power.

He had been here when Fangtasia opened its doors. Not that he had been allowed inside on opening night, but he took his time. He watched which humans had been allowed to enter and how they had dressed. He changed his outfits and soon enough he had been allowed to enter the club. He had still not been very lucky with the vampires on the inside. It was a rare occasion that a vampire chose him to feed from and even a rarer one where the vampire had sex with him. But he did not mind. He had his eye on Eric Northman, the aloof blonde god on the throne.

His bravado gave out and Duke fell to his knees, crawling towards the throne. With trembling fingers he reached out and caressed his blonde vampire god’s right knee. It did not seem as if Eric had noticed him and Duke started begging, “Please, take me, I’ll make it good for you.” He wondered if he could dare, but his stars had predicted that all his dreams will come true, so Duke started kissing Eric’s right knee, hoping he would finally notice him and take him.

Ylva watched the spectacle from their table, making sure neither Bill nor Sookie saw her watching Eric. She saw the balding and scrawny man make his way to the throne, his eyes shining with blind adoration towards the blonde vampire, his thoughts no better. Even before reaching his prize his bravado failed him and he fell to his knees, crawling the last few steps before reaching Eric’s feet. With a smile she watched his trembling fingers caressing Eric’s right leg, promising him that he will make it good for the vampire, before planting a few kisses on Eric’s knee.

Eric did not seem to notice the man crawling towards him, but Ylva could read the disgust in his head. Duke was busy taunting a very frustrated apex predator and he will not like the consequences. The moment Duke started kissing his knee, Eric lost whatever little patience he had with the pathetic little worm. With a snarl he kicked the cowering vermin in front of him, sending him flying across the room.

Duke landed with a crash between two patrons. Splattering them with their drinks. With a dazed and confused look Duke stumbled to his feet, not even feeling the blood flowing from a gash on his head. All he could think about was what he did wrong. He did not even notice the female vampire leading him away from the mess.

Pam rolled her eyes at her Maker. Eric should know better by now to physically abuse the vermin in public. Although it was not as if any of the humans seemed to care. The shocked silence after his display lasted less than a second. What pissed Pam off was that they were going to spend money. Money on replacing the table Eric had broken, money on replacing the glasses he had broken and more importantly money on placating the vermin who had been splashed with their drinks when Duke landed between them. But then again, comp them two rounds and she would bet her whole shoe collection that they would be back within a week. For some reason the vermin loved when Eric was cruel towards them.

Bill was envious of Northman’s sudden display of violence. How he would enjoy to display his own prowess, but Sookie would not be impressed and all his work would be for naught. She longed for a Southern gentleman and Bill had struggled to perfect his persona of the perfect Southern gentleman, a vampire who struggled and fought bravely against his nature, one who no longer drank human blood and openly preferred True Blood. Not that he could stand that synthetic shit. Now if only he could manage to get the fool to open her legs for him, then he would be able to fuck the shit out of her and feed off her at the same time. He knew he would still pretend to buy True Blood, but she would be in fact his main source of food. It was not as if she had noticed him feeding off quite a number of the Bon Temps residents these past six months. He always made sure to heal the bite marks and glamoured the encounters from their minds.

“Bill, who is that?” Sookie motioned towards Northman.

“That is Eric Northman. Co-owner of this establishment, Sheriff of Area 5 and the oldest thing in this place tonight, in fact he is the oldest thing in all of Louisiana.”

Ylva noticed the way Bill said “establishment” and calling Eric a thing. His tone inferred that he did not think much of Fangtasia and that he neither cared for nor respected Eric Northman. As nightclubs go, Fangtasia was rather nice. A bit gothic and a bit cheesy, but it worked. And was Bill raised by uneducated apes? No scratch that, even animals knew to respect their elders and the alpha males and females. Bill proclaimed to have been turned right after the end of the Civil War, he proclaimed to come from an influential and rich Southern family. As such the notion of respect for your elders would have been spoon fed and beaten into him since birth, three times a day. Which only meant that Bill Compton had always been a self-entitled ungrateful little shit, one who had been used to be the top dog and had been realizing ever since he had been made a vampire, that he was in fact not the alpha male. And that was something that did not sit very well for the creepy bastard.

“Sheriff? Area?”

Sookie was curious. Did it mean that the violent vampire on the throne was some sort of cop? Bill sighed and gave Sookie a rather edited version of vampire politics, neither mentioning the monarchs nor his own position in the court of Louisiana’s Queen.

“Vampires must not only abide by human laws, but also by the laws passed down by the Vampire Authority. Each state has been divided in different areas and a sheriff has been appointed to preside over each area. Northman is the Sheriff of Area 5, which includes Shreveport and Bon Temps. All vampires living in the area must abide by the rules set out by the Sheriff and the Sheriff in turn protects the vampires and humans alike. Making sure that no vampire is persecuted by small minded humans and that the vampires follow the laws of humans and don’t step out of line. But never mind that, I suspect that Eric will ask us to join him shortly. He has been looking over here three times now. You have certainly piqued his interest. You should not have worn this dress.”

Sookie looked at her dress. She could not see anything wrong with it. It was certainly one of her more expensive dresses, white with red flowers. She thought she looked pretty in it.

“What is wrong with my dress?”

Bill raised her hand to his lips, before gently pressing a kiss on it. Ylva gagged at the false saccharine sweet display before her.

“Nothing my dear. It is just that you look so young and innocent. No vampire will be able to resist you. I am very proud and privileged to accompany you tonight, but I fear I may have to defend your honour before the night is over.”

Sookie giggled at the praise and admiration bestowed upon her. She had told Ylva there was nothing wrong with her dress and had urged Ylva to borrow one of her own dresses. Instead Ylva insisted on wearing her own clothes, a black denim, with the knee high, high heeled boots and the black top with the spaghetti straps. No wonder the vampire at the door had thought she was sixteen years old and being snuck into a nightclub. She looked like a sixteen year old who tried to pass as an adult.

Finally Eric lifted his right hand, beckoning Bill Compton and his companions to join him. Bill helped Sookie from her chair, once again grabbing her hand, in both a display of ownership to Eric and a notion of comfort and protection for Sookie’s sake. Looking back towards Ylva, he ordered her “Stay.”

Ylva hated being treated like a dog, she wondered if she should give the idiot a little bark in answer, but Sookie will most certainly not like it and Compton himself had the sense of humour akin to that of a piece of drift wood. So she sat down and took a sip of her cranberry juice.

“Pam, bjud in den andra kvinnan att gå med okcsä. Eftersom dummen bestämde mig menade ag bara honom och hans kvinnliga vän.” (Pam, please invite the other female to join us as well. Since the fool decided I only meant himself and his female friend.)

Pam’s teeth flashed, “It would be my pleasure.”

Sookie and Bill made their way through the throng of dancers. She gripped Bill’s hand just a little bit tighter. This was no place for a lady such as herself. Every last one of the humans’ thoughts were about sex, making her blush. She felt dirty and disgusted. It was one thing for Reverend Daniels to preach about forgiveness and understanding, but he sure never had to wade through the real filth in people’s mind like Sookie has to on a daily basis.

“Bill, don’t you dare let go of my hand.”

Bill was pleased, he was very pleased. He should not have feared coming here with her. This shithole made Sookie forget all about the little incident at his home and she was once again assured that Bill Compton was her knight in shining armour. He could not wait to taste her blood again, the blood he had licked from her wounds had been delicious and he can only imagine how it would taste if he could only sink his fangs into her and drink, maybe as he was fucking her. She does not know it yet, but she will yield to him, she will soon be begging him to take her every which way. And all he has to do was to tell her sweet little lies.

He noticed Eric telling Pam something, once again in that infernal guttural native language of his, before Pam smiled and telling her Maker that something would be her pleasure. Maybe he sent the bitch back to the front door. Maybe if he was really lucky he told the whore to go do what she was best at, laying on her back with her legs wide open and perform her duty to men.

“Ms Grimm, my Maker would like you to join us as well. His invitation had been extended to all three of you.”

Ylva slipped from her chair.

“Tell me Ms Grimm, what were you thinking when Compton ordered you to stay?”

Ylva smiled, “To be honest, I wondered if I should bark and wave my butt, since he ordered me as if I was a little disobedient puppy.”

Pam laughed. Her laughter sent the vermin scattering in all directions, Pam never laughed and it frightened them more than Eric’s display of violence. Ylva took a chance, before they reached the throne, she would divulge a few secrets to Pam and her Maker. Such as the presence of the undercover cop and Duke being fed from in the ladies’ restroom.

“Jag menar dig ingen skada, men du borde veta att jag är telepath och det är min vän. Det finns en undercover polis i baren, som också är skadad. Du skulle ha funnit bevisen han hade planterat. Men mannen som din maker har sparkat matas för närvarande från i badrummet.” (I mean you no harm, but you should know that I am a telepath and so is my friend. There is an undercover cop at the bar, who is also corrupt. You would have found the evidence he had been planting. But the man your Maker has kicked is currently being fed from in the bathroom.)

“Precis vad fan är du?” (Just what the fuck are you?)

“Senare, bara vet att jag inte är din fiende. Moronen med de hemska sidovurnorna, han är en annan sak. Han åtnjuter skyddet av din monark och den blonda vampyren på TV.” (Later, just know that I am not your enemy. The moron with the horrible sideburns, he is another matter. He enjoys the protection of your monarch and the blonde vampire on television.)  
Eric understood the message, this one was smart, she was not about to use names and tip Compton off that she was talking about him. And besides Duke being fed from and the raid being planned, she only confirmed what Eric had already knew. But it was things she were not supposed to know. The past three weeks Ginger had presented him nearly each night with a variety of drugs, which he had promptly destroyed. He also knew about Compton and his position within Sophie-Anne’s court as well as the protection he received from Nan Flanagan. Nora certainly has come through there. He also knew that Nan’s position has been hanging in the balance for years now, one fuck up and she was gone. 

“Don’t worry yourself, cupcake. And thanks.”

Pam gritted the last two words, as if it had hurt her physically. She was not used to thank anybody but Eric and most certainly not humans. It had been years since she thanked anybody but her Maker for anything, well there had been times she had been forced to play nice, but it did not mean that her gratitude and thanks had been honest. This time she really meant it, and fuck did it hurt.

Bill was not pleased when Pam returned with Ylva by her side. He ordered the silly little girl to stay where she was and yet she disobeyed him. If not for his mission and the fear of upsetting Sookie, thus failing in his task, he would have snapped Ylva’s neck a long time ago. She may look demure and sweet, but she was a willful little beast. Her mind was her own and to make matters worse he failed in every attempt to get her alone and glamour her to stay the fuck away. But maybe, if he plays his cards right, he may just drive a wedge between Sookie and Ylva. He heard her talking to Pam and the cunt was fluent in Swedish. If he could not glamour the girl to become his spy and tell him everything which was said between Eric and his progeny, then he will make sure Sookie does not trust Ylva. He just had to bide his time and wait for the right opportunity to broach the subject of duplicity.

“Good evening Bill. What brings you to Fangtasia and my corner of Louisiana?”

Eric could not wait for the bullshit that was sure to come from Compton.

“I have recently learned of the death of my last living descendant and as such have taken residence in what used to be my home. I’ve come to present myself and request permission to settle down in your Area.”

Eric nodded, as if he did not know that Compton has been creeping around Bon Temps for the last six months.

“Very well, you may stay. Make sure you receive a list of my rules and your obligations to the Area before you leave tonight.”

He turned his attention to Compton’s human companions.

“Good evening ladies. My name is Eric Northman and you are?”

Sookie bobbed her head, as if attempting a half assed curtsy, “My name is Sookie Stackhouse and this is…”

Ylva interrupted her, she hated when Sookie spoke for her, “Ylva Grimm. Nice to make your acquaintance. Lovely place you have here Mr Northman.”

“Aren’t you sweet?”

“Not really,” Ylva shot back. She really could see why all the humans fell over themselves in a bid to impress the vampire. He was certainly a sight to behold. Nicely toned body, a little sexy cleft in his chin, blue eyes a girl could certainly drown in and a killer smile.

Eric’s smile grew only wider. He liked this human, she was not afraid of him, she did not throw herself at him, but neither was she disrespectful towards him. He took a gentle whiff, and the smell of her, so sweet and pure. She reminded him of his home, when he had still been human. She reminded him of the pure clean air, the smell of the ocean all around, honey, milk and the wild flowers growing all around their village. Somehow she reminded him of a true Viking woman. Viking women had been real women back then. Soft and sweet one moment, only to turn into fierce warriors the next. His mother had been like that. How many times did he see her grab her sword and wade into battle right next to his father? How many of their enemies had been dispatched by his mother’s blade alone?

He did not understand humans now. The men were all neutered little puppies, too afraid to be what nature had intended them to be. Too afraid to be the warriors and protectors. Not that the women were any better. They had forgotten that women had dual natures. One part was soft, gentle and caring. The other part was fierce warriors. These days they were either wilting little flowers, bowing and scraping before the whims of the men in their lives, because their bible told them to. Or they were ball busting cruel creatures, trying to prove themselves that they had bigger balls than the men around them.

He had always wanted a strong woman. One who would stand up to him whenever he got out of line. One who would fight right next to him, vanquishing their enemies. One who could be both gentle and hard. One who would be his equal. She would protect and defend him with the same ferocity as he would her. Pam was like that. If only he could have loved her, but she was not to be his lover. She was his child, his sister and his friend.

Eric made sure that Ylva was seated right next to him on his right side, her chair moved just a little bit closer to him. Sookie was seated next to Ylva. Bill was given a very uncomfortable chair on his left. Eric promptly turned his back on Bill and bestowed all his attention on the two humans. Behind him he could hear Compton gnashing his teeth together and by the sound of it he was trying to ground his teeth to dust. Bill had never liked to be ignored. Petulant little boy, there was no doubt in Eric’s mind that Bill had been a miserable petulant little shit when he had still been human and Lorena only furthered his delusions of grandeur, pampering him and his fragile overinflated ego.

“How can I help you lovely ladies tonight?”

Bill finally lost his composure, snarling “Sookie is mine!”

Pam raised her eyebrow at Bill’s outburst. Such posturing, could the fool not see that Eric was not interested in the human in the white dress. She looked as if she was about to attend a church picnic and not enter a nightclub. Whether it was vampire owned and operated or not.

“And are you his, Miss Stackhouse?”

Eric could not wait for her answer. The way she had clutched his hand announced that she was involved with Bill in some way, he was just unsure in which way. It was very obviously not sexual.

“Yes. I am his,” Sookie quickly announced. Bill had warned her that most vampires were very territorial and he had only claimed her to be his to protect her. And it seemed like she would need Bill’s protection tonight. She was so lucky that Bill was such a gentleman.

“How unfortunate…for me.” Eric drawled, which made Bill ground his teeth again. He smiled at Ylva and wondered if Bill would find the balls to try and claim this one as his property as well.

“And you Ms Grimm? Do you belong to somebody?”

Bill was conflicted. Should he try and claim Ylva as his human as well? Not that he wanted to, he could not care less if every vampire in this club took their turns at her, fucking her right there in the middle of the dancefloor, before draining every last drop of blood from her body. But Sookie certainly cared for her and he still had a job to do.

“Ylva belongs…”

Ylva shot Bill a glare. “I do not belong to anybody. I owe my allegiance only to my kin and friends.”

If looks could kill, Ylva would have been burned to a crisp by the death stare from Bill. Sookie was irritated by her friend as well. Could Ylva not see that Bill was only trying to help her? She should not have brought Ylva along, but she was trying to punish Bill as well as be kind to Ylva, so that her younger friend could also claim that she had been on a date at least once. She did not like the way Mr Northman had been looking at Ylva. Maybe she should ask Sam to take her out, Sam was a nice guy, he had his own business and was one of the richest men in Bon Temps, even though he never flaunted his wealth. Hoyt would of course be perfect for Ylva, but with his mother and his own shyness he would never even think to ask Ylva to join him for a coffee. Besides it was clear that Ylva needed a strong man to protect her and guide her. 

Sookie’s mind snapped back to reality the second she heard Mr Northman asking Ylva to join him for dinner the following evening. Oh for the love of … somebody really should put the man on a leash, he seemed to be more of a horn dog than Jason and Jason had always allowed his you know what to lead him by the nose.

“Ylva! We are not here to socialize. Remember Jason?” 

Once again whipping the pictures of Maudette and Dawn from her purse, Sookie shoved them in Eric’s direction.

“Have ya’ll seen any of these two women?”

Pam answered Sookie, “Both women were regulars. Maudette Pickens and Dawn Green. Maudette liked cheap beer, unless somebody was paying of course. Dawn liked martinis, just like James Bond.”

“And you know that, because of your vault?” Sookie pointed towards Pam’s head.

“Got it in one Princess and don’t you forget it.”

Tapping the picture of Maudette, Eric told Sookie, “I’ve seen her before. She was quite the regular. Now this one, she was a regular too, one that I have tasted. I’ve heard they both died recently, correct?”

Eric membered both women, he never had Maudette. She was not his type, but he had tasted Dawn once. She tasted horrible, greasy and bland, with a nasty aftertaste of smoke. Sex with her had been just as distasteful as her blood. Without blowing his own horn, he was certainly very blessed down below, but she was stretched wide, there had been absolutely no friction. He had tried to force himself to cum and when that failed, he told her to suck him off. At least the blowjob had been memorable, but given the state of her pussy, it was a damn near given that Dawn had been very experienced in any and all aspects of sex. He never looked at her again and had been ready to glamour her to stay the hell away from Fangtasia when she had died.

Sookie was repulsed by Eric. It was as if the man was describing ice creams. Tasting them? Eww! But she still had a job to do, she had to clear Jason’s name.

“They were murdered and the cops in Bon Temps think my brother Jason did it. Now, Jason may be a lot of things. He is a horn dog and have, uhm, dated both Maudette and Dawn before. He has been … ah … you know … well, intimate, if you know what I mean,” Sookie blushed at the mere thought of sex, “with both Maudette and Dawn right before they were killed. In fact he had been the last man, except the killer of course, who had seen both women before they died. So now Andy Bellefleur, the sheriff at Bon Temps, thinks Jason did it, because he had always been jealous of Jason. And Jason keeps digging himself deeper and deeper, on account that he is not the smartest man out there. My Gran keeps telling him that he should think before he acts and that the Good Lord has given him a perfectly good brain and he should really use it once in his life and not allow it to take up space between his ears. But Jason is a bit stupid, so he’ll just keep talking and talking and I just know it, before I could even sneeze, Jason is going to be sent to prison. And I know Jason is a bit stupid and a whole lot of a horn dog, but it don’t mean he should be sent to prison for it.”

Eric had never heard so many words spilling so fast from somebody’s lips. The woman seemed to be suffering from verbal diarrhea. 

“Where either of the women drained?”

Sookie shook her head.

“No there was bite marks, you know from vampires, but they were strangled.”

“Then I fail to see why you came here. A vampire would have drained them.”

“I know Mr Northman, but both came here, both had been with vampires and Jason told me Maudette had shown him a video of herself and a crazy tattooed vampire. So I wanted to know if any of ya’ll can remember if they saw somebody following them?”

“Then I am afraid I can’t help you, Ms Stackhouse. If you tell me that a vampire had killed them, I would have gotten involved. If you came to tell me that any of the vampires living in my Area was in danger, then I would get involved. But it is not my business to babysit consenting adults who come to Fangtasia to have a good time. As long as nobody is breaking the law while on the premises of Fangtasia and as long as a vampire is not harming a human or being harmed by a human, then it is out of my hands. Just how sure are you that your brother did not kill those women?”

Sookie never wanted to slap somebody so much as she wanted to slap Eric Northman.

“Because I know my brother, Mr Northman. Besides he told me.”

“Humans lie Ms Stackhouse. They lie all the time to get themselves out of trouble.”

That was it, eyes blazing, Sookie waved a finger at Eric.

“And I suppose ya’ll don’t ever lie? I suppose vampires always tell the truth? How do I know you weren’t the one to kill poor Maudette and Dawn?”

Eric’s voice was shards of ice, “Ms Stackhouse, do not come here and accuse me of a crime. If I or any other vampire had wanted to kill those women, we would not have left the bodies behind. We would have drained them of every last drop of blood in their bodies and then make sure that the bodies disappeared. Now I suggest Bill take you home and you make peace with the fact that you may in fact not know your brother as well as you claim you do and hire a lawyer to defend him.”

Sookie’s eyes teared up. This was not going as well as she had hoped. She was supposed to come here and find the killer and save Jason. Maybe she could find something to convince Eric to help her clear Jason’s name. It sure never was this hard in any of the movies or series she has watched over the years. Scanning the crowd, Sookie heard the anxious thoughts of the cop ‘Where the hell are they? SWAT should have been here five minutes ago. I can’t do this raid by myself.’. There, that is it. Bill may be a little angry that she shared her gift, but she had to, she had no choice.

“We need to get out of here, right now!” She practically screamed at Eric, nearly deafening Ylva in the process. Pointing at the cop, she continued, “That man right there is a cop and the police are going to raid this place.”

Eric scoffed, they had been warned of the danger by Ylva and Pam had taken care of Tanya feeding off Duke in the restroom. Best to play along with Ms Stackhouse here and see how much she was willing to divulge.

“What are you? Are you a cop?”

Sookie shuddered at the sudden snarling voice of Eric.

“No, no, I’m a waitress at Merlotte’s in Bon Temps. Ylva too. But that man is a cop and I know that the man you had kicked earlier is being fed from in the ladies room.”

Sookie did not have time to really check if the poor man was still there, but it had hardly been ten minutes since Eric had summoned them and she heard the poor man’s voice. He was really enjoying the experience.

“Nice way to through your friend under the bus.” That was what Pam wanted to tell Sookie, but opted instead for the expected. “And how the fuck do you know that?”

“I’m a telepath, I can read minds.” Sookie stuttered the words, the list of people who knew about her ability has grown and these two blonde vampires formed part of the group who maybe never should have known about her.

Bill tried to stop the silly human from spilling the beans but the words spilled faster from her mouth than he had been able to change the subject and offer a more plausible solution.

“No, no, I can only read human minds. Ya’ll a big voids to me, maybe it is because you are dead and all? Ylva also can’t read your minds.”

And there was the second bus, Pam thought. So what if Ylva had already told them? She kept it as quiet as possible, not screaming the secret so that every vampire in a twenty mile radius could hear her.

Eric nodded to Pam. “Then I suggest we take our leave. Follow me.”

Bill grabbed Sookie’s hand, making sure she did not get lost or fall. He did not care what happened to Ylva, the cops could grab her and through her in jail for all he cared. He was mildly surprised when the short girl managed to keep up with their hasty retreat from the club, not even falling behind once or calling out for help. He was furthermore surprised by the fact that Ylva was a telepath too. Maybe he could take her to New Orleans and hand her over to Sophie-Anne. That would mean that Sookie would be all his and whenever he visited the Queen, he could feed off and fuck the stuck up little bitch. Well that was until he takes over as King, then maybe he could sell her to Russel Edgington, the King of Mississippi. Russel was very powerful and very old. Just like Sophie-Anne he loved to collect things, but unlike Sophie-Anne he rarely paid for any of his treasures.

Eric and Pam led the group from the building, he would take them to a little safe haven of his, until it was safe for Compton to return to Fangtasia and retrieve his vehicle. It would mean that they had to use vampire speed, but surely Compton could carry both women? Looking back he saw Bill picking up Sookie and realized that the fool was more than willing to leave the other human behind. So much for his so-called Southern manners.

They had been stuck for an hour, waiting for the cops to leave Fangtasia. The hour was spent in near silence. Sookie was angry because Eric had picked Ylva up and ran with her, not that she was saying anything of course, but she was thinking it. If only Ylva would have asked Bill to carry her as well, she was sure Bill would have complied, he is a gentleman after all. Now she was going to owe Eric Northman a favour and Sookie just knew what kind of favours Eric would want from her young and naïve friend.

Bill was sulking because Eric carried Ylva. He had contemplated leaving her right there, but decided he would wait a few seconds to force Ylva to beg him to carry her as well. Turns out that he waited ten seconds too long as Eric turned around, shot him an icy glare and carried Ylva to safety.

Pam was flipping through a fashion magazine and plotting the use of one of Eric’s credit cards. What she really wanted to do was stake Bill Compton, mainly because he fucking irritated her, but also because he did not think to protect both the humans he had brought to Fangtasia. But if she killed him in front of witnesses, then Eric would have to summon the Magister and she would be sentenced with either the true death, if the Magister was in a bad mood, or sentenced to a hundred years in silver, if he was in a good mood. But since Ylva had revealed that Compton enjoyed the protection of Nan Flanagan, she could be certain that the Magister would feel very vindictive and place Eric in a silver coffin for a hundred years and execute her. So she was falling back into her happy place, shopping, dreaming about shopping and spending Eric’s money.

Eric spent the hour in contact with his lawyer to sort through the legal mess. Every now and again he sneaked a peek at Ylva, wondering how he was going to get the girl to come to Fangtasia again. Or how soon he would be able to visit her. She made him feel things, things that he swore never to feel again. All his love and affection was for Godric and Pamela these days. That and his thousand year grudge to avenge the deaths of his human family.

Finally Bill decided to break the silence, it was now the perfect time to shift Sookie’s attention away from the fact that he did not offer to carry her friend to safety and expose Ylva’s deceit to Sookie, driving a wedge between the two women.

“I did not know you could speak Swedish?”

Ylva had been expecting the question, she was not foolish enough to believe that Bill did not hear her.

“It never came up in conversation. My mother is Swedish, so of course I would be able to speak Swedish.”

Bill nearly snorted, did the human believe him to be stupid? Even he knows that Grimm is not a Swedish surname.

“And before you ask Bill, my father is German. So yes, I am also fluent in German. I have not seen my family in a very long time and I miss them dearly, so whenever I find somebody who is able to speak either Swedish or German, then I grab that chance.”

Sookie decided that Ylva meant her family died and was promptly angry at Bill again, refusing to speak to him, other than order him to go and fetch the car so that they could go home.

After that the ride back to Bon Temps was even more uncomfortable than the ride to Shreveport. Bill was so sure he would be able to get rid of the troublesome human, but she had a very plausible excuse ready. To compound matters a cop pulled them over and Bill had to glamour the cop to let them leave. Maybe it was not the best idea to steal his weapon, since it only made Sookie angrier at him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: True Blood does not belong to me, I just like to play a bit.
> 
> This is not beta read and all mistakes are my own.
> 
> Please remember - if you don't like what I wrote - stop reading.

Andy Bellefleur hovered. It was cases like these that made him believe he was the worst cop in Renard Parish, hell the worst cop in the whole world. Rene Lenier was the last person he would have suspected of being the killer. The man did not seem to be the type. In all the cop shows he has watched over the years, the killer was always the one who just looked like a killer, with the cruel smiles and cold eyes. Rene had the love of a beautiful woman, he had friends, he had a steady job, he was friendly and outgoing. Hell, he even saw Rene carry Maxine Fortenberry’s bags for her the other day and not even Andy would willingly go anywhere near old Maxine. Why was life never as easy as it was for the heroes from all them cop shows? 

Andy watched as the first ambulance pulled away, taking Adele Stackhouse to the hospital. The poor old woman had been knocked around and roughed up a bit by Rene, but she would make it. Nothing a few days in the hospital would not cure. And now she had her own battle scars to show and her very own war story to tell. Maybe now she would be willing to move closer to town. The old Stackhouse home was too far away from town, too isolated. It is not right that two women live so alone here. Their nearest neighbours were only the dead.

If Ylva had not come along, Adele would have been murdered in her own house. And maybe Rene would have waited around, just waiting for Sookie to come home, so he could kill her too. And tomorrow morning they would have hauled two body bags from the house and Jason Stackhouse would have hanged for the murders of four women, two his own kin. Found guilty of crimes he did not commit. Rene Lenier would have been walking around, still laughing and joking and carrying Maxine Fortenberry’s fucking bags for her.

Thank God for Ylva Grimm. If not for this slip of a girl, a murderer would have walked away and an innocent man would be rotting in jail. Turning to the girl in question, he gently patted her on the right shoulder. The son of a bitch really did a number on Ylva. Lip split open, gash on the cheek, right eye nearly swollen shut, cuts all over her hands and arms, the bastard even managed to stab her. At least he missed her heart. And in Andy’s mind he added another body bag if Ylva had not managed to overcome her assailant. 

“You ready to give me a statement? Of course if you’re not up to it, we can do it later. We can take your statement at the hospital or tomorrow… I don’t really mind.” Looking at the paramedic hovering close by, “And only if ya’ll don’t need to take her to the hospital immediately.”

The paramedic shook his head. Their patient needed to go the hospital, he was fairly sure that at least one of her ribs were cracked, but he suspected broken and hoped for bruised. But her condition was not life threatening and she was as stubborn as a fucking mule. Outright refused to leave until she spoke to the cops.

“Let’s get this over with Detective Bellefleur,”

Andy had always liked Ylva. She was the only person in this town who ever called him Detective and not just Andy. He fondly remembered the first time he met her, it was close to two years now. She had just started working at Merlotte’s and Sookie was training her. He and Bud had their lunch there, as they have had damn near every day. Sookie and Ylva came to their table. Sookie told them that it was Ylva’s first day and she was still training and asked them to have patience with the kid. Of course Sookie introduced Bud as Sheriff Dearborn and him as Andy Bellefleur. It was not that he minded really, but he had worked hard to pass his Detective’s exam. Despite what people may think it was not a walk in the park to become a detective. Would it really kill the people of Bon Temps to refer to him as Detective, especially when he was working? He did not mind if people called him Andy after hours, but damn it, a little respect goes a long way.

After a moment Sookie did mention that Andy was the local and only detective at the Renard Parish’s Sheriff’s Department. Ylva had smiled at the two cops, “Nice to meet you Sheriff Dearborn, Detective Bellefleur.” Whenever she worked the lunch shift they would sit in her section and without fault, Ylva would call him Detective. And what he had appreciated it more, was that she really meant it, she was neither condescending nor sarcastic.

“Normally I would never show up this late at somebody’s house, but I forgot to ask Sookie if she would be willing to swap her lunch shift for my dinner shift tomorrow night. So I thought it would be alright, because tips are always better during the evenings than during the day. I got here and I saw the front door was open, which was strange, Mrs Stackhouse never left the door standing wide open, especially not this late at night. As I reached the door I could hear noises coming from inside the house, you know, things falling. And I thought that maybe Mrs Stackhouse had slipped and hurt herself. And Sookie was not here yet, so I rushed into the house, to try and help Mrs Stackhouse and maybe call for help if it was serious.”

Ylva shuddered as she recounted what she saw, Andy gave her knee an awkward pat.

“Mrs Stackhouse was laying on the ground in the kitchen and I saw this man over her, pinning her to the floor. There was a knife right next to him, all bloody and he had his hands around Mrs Stackhouse’s throat, strangling her. So I grabbed this vase on the dining room table and smashed it against the back of his head. I wasn’t thinking, not really, I just wanted him off Mrs Stackhouse. It was only then that I saw it was Rene and for a moment I thought that I had just attacked an innocent man, maybe he found Mrs Stackhouse and was only trying to help her and I had come and hit him over the head. It’s stupid I know, I saw him strangling Mrs Stackhouse, I saw the blood on the knife and I kept thinking that I did not see his car outside and why would he come here, this late at night, but I also kept thinking that I had just assaulted an innocent man and that you would come and arrest me and I would go to prison for attacking somebody.”

Ylva started crying and when she wiped the tears from her eyes, she forgot about her swollen and bruised right eye, making her cry harder.

“Ylva, honey, we can do this tomorrow or the day after.”

“No Detective Bellefleur, I need to tell you know. I need to get it out of my system.” 

Ylva took a shuddering breath, before continuing, 

“And then Rene came after me, screaming that after he took care of me, he was going to finish off the old meddling bitch, then he was going to find Sookie’s cat, cut off its head and hang the body from the ceiling fan. And then…then he was going to wait for Sookie to come home and kill her just like he killed his sister. He said that women who dated vampires or where even friendly with them where nothing more than whores of Satan and should be destroyed. So that they won’t be able to infect normal decent women with their sins. He tried to stab me, screaming that he was going to stab me right in the heart. And I just kept trying to keep him from killing me. I don’t know how long he kept stabbing at me, but I was getting tired and my arms and hands hurt and bled and I could not understand where the blood was coming from our why my arms and hands hurt so much, it was only later, that I realized he kept cutting my arms and hands whenever I tried to stop him. Rene stabbed again and I couldn’t get my hands up fast enough and I felt something cold in my chest. When I looked down, I saw the knife sticking out of me and I got angry, real angry and I remembered what my Daddy taught me about what do to if a man attacks me. He always said that women weren’t made to be as strong as men, but it did not mean that a man had the right to hurt me. So if a man tries to hurt me, I should just kick him real hard between the legs. My Daddy grimaced when he said this, but he also chuckled, said it was a real equalizer. It will at least give the woman a fighting chance or the chance to get away. So I kicked him real hard between the legs, but I could not run away, I could not leave Mrs Stackhouse laying on the ground, it would not be right.”

Andy felt the burning need to cover his own family jewels. At least she had a father who loved her enough to teach her how to defend herself. Even if it meant telling her just where to kick a man, no matter how big and strong the man, a good kick in the nuts would even bring Superman to his knees, crying like a little girl. Andy knew just how painful a kick in the nuts could be, he got kicked right in the ballsack once. It was the singular most painful experience of his life, it had left him a quivering crying mess, all covered in snot and tears.

“I know there was one of Jason’s old baseball bats in the closet, because Sookie always complains that she wish Jason would either come and get it or allow her Gran to throw it away. She said the thing only takes up space and the thing kept falling on the feet whenever they opened the closet. So I ran to the living room and grabbed the baseball bat and when I turned around Rene was already up and running towards me. I just swung the bat and I could not stop myself I just kept hitting him. I could not stop and think about what he had wanted to do to Sookie and Mrs Stackhouse. How he had killed Dawn and Maudette and his sister and who knows how many other women. I kept hitting and hitting and hitting. I don’t even know how long it took, all I know is that I remember the first hit to his head and the second and the third and then nothing. Everything went hazy and the next thing I was standing there with the phone in my hand and…”

Ylva was crying and sniffing, trying to wipe both her nose and eyes at the same time.

“…and now I’m going to prison, because I killed somebody…”

Sookie swept down, gathered Ylva in her arms and gently rocked her.

“Oh, honey. You’re not going to prison. You defended yourself and saved Gran’s life. Andy knows that too.”

Sookie glared at Andy as if he was already standing there with the cuffs ready to slap on her and haul her off to prison. Andy could not help but wonder if Sookie believed him to be either such an idiot or a cruel bastard.

Andy tutted. “Of course I’m not going to take you to prison. And nobody else is going to either. You did nothing wrong. Rene Lenier was an evil man, who did horrible things. Come, it’s time for you to go to the hospital and get yourself fixed up. And don’t worry about Sam Merlotte, even if I have to take your shift tomorrow and every shift until you are back on your feet, the only thing you need to worry about is getting healed up right.”

It was much later, after the doctor gave her a sedative, pain medication, stitched the wound in her shoulder, strapped her ribs, three broken, one cracked and two bruised and the nurses left her alone for the night, that Ylva finally smiled. It was going to be a bitch to heal at the expected human rate, but it was all worth it. By noon tomorrow, the Sheriff’s Department would uncover most if not all of Rene Lenier’s dirty and shady past, or should she just call him Drew Marshall, that was his real name after all. He had such a good thing going, living a near nomadic lifestyle with his sister, killing fangbangers all over the United States. Fuck knows how many more women he would have killed until he was finally caught? But he fucked up when he killed his own sister. Drew Marshall had to disappear and the monster reemerged from whichever swamp he had crawled into as the loveable Cajun, Rene Lenier.

Unlike most of the people in Bon Temps, she did not think that Andy was stupid. Maybe just a little insecure and jealous of Jason, but not stupid. It was just that she was better. She’s been doing this a long time now. Sometimes Ylva hated her looks. Nobody took her seriously, not when she looked about as dangerous as a fluffy stuffed cuddle toy. Her looks had always been her strongest weapon and defensive mechanism. Nobody saw the danger until it was too late. 

She had finally been able to crack open the locked room inside Rene’s mind. What she found inside was Drew Marshall, psychopath killer. A monster disguised as a human. Finally his mind was laid open to her, there was no thought he could hide. She saw his memories, his dreams and his desires. She had judged him and found him guilty. He would no longer walk around, killing men and women, just because they associated with vampires. She knew he was planning to kill Adele Stackhouse, Sookie and even poor Tina the cat that night. Shit the pervert had creamed his own pants at the mere thought of killing the old woman, her fangbanging granddaughter, even if Sookie was still a virgin (for the moment, the foolish girl was planning on finally giving it up and to Bill Compton of all men) and let us not forget the cat.

She frowned as she remembered how she had been delayed nearly too long by Mike Spencer, just because the old pervert wanted to stare at her boobs and dreamed of sucking her toes. By the time she had been able to get rid of Mike, she nearly arrived too late at the Stackhouse residence to save Adele. The old lady nearly died because Mike Spencer was a dirty old man.

She smiled as she remembered the fight between herself and Drew. She knew she had to make it believable. The excuse of an adrenaline rush can only be used so much, before everybody could smell the bullshit you are trying to sell. She made sure obtain the expected defensive wounds on her arms and hands. She even allowed the miserable shit to get in a few shots, she had to look if she was fighting for her life. The bastard even managed to get in a lucky shot and stabbed her in the chest. At least the stupid fuck missed the heart and her left lung. It felt so good bashing his brains in with Jason’s old baseball bat. She got rid of a murderous psychopath and worked off some of her anger at Sookie’s very deliberate slip about her being a telepath. Just because she did not care that Eric and Pam knew it did not mean she wanted Bill fucking Compton to know about her ability. Best of all, her mission is still safe and her cover had not been blown. 

So what if she was just a little pissy at the moment? She was going to have to walk around looking like a bruised turd and allow the wounds to heal at a snail’s pace. And the fucking stab wound is going to scar. And she was going to leave the fucking scar there until her mission was complete. With a soft sigh, Ylva closed her eyes and went to sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a long day and there was no way she was spending another night in the hospital. 

******

In Bon Temps Jason Stackhouse closed his front door behind Andy and Bud. He appreciated that the men visited him and apologized. Jason could not really blamed Andy suspecting him, hell, he even suspected himself. He spent the whole day thinking he had accidently killed Maudette and even after he had been cleared, he still had his doubts.

These past few dark days Jason had wondered about himself and feared himself. Part of him knew he would never be able to commit cold blooded murder, but he also doubted himself. There had been those couple of instances where he seemed to have lost time. The first time he had been watching the game on TV. He had an ice cold beer next to him and tray full of snacks, ready to enjoy the game and his alone time. He could clearly remember the knock on his front door and his annoyance at being disturbed. Sometimes he like to be by himself, no need to impress a woman or keep an ear out for some idiot calling his sister names. The next thing he remembers the game was over, the post-match interviews were over, his beer was warm and the tray of snacks had not even been touched. He lost four hours and he could not remember what the fuck he had been doing.

And that had only been the start of the disturbing instances of missing time. Sometimes he would come too curled into a ball and crying his eyes out, sometimes he would be furiously scrubbing himself under an almost too hot shower. He remembers the feeling of disgust, fear, anger and most of all shame, but he never could remember what he had been doing during those missing hours and why he felt the way he did.

So it had been quite possible that he had killed both Maudette and Dawn and Lord knows how many other women during those missing hours. And he feared for himself, for Sookie, for Ylva and his Gran. He did not trust himself with anybody not even with himself.

Jason stepped out of the shower, he needed to scrub the memories of the cell and his doubt from his mind. He stared at the stranger in the mirror, he barely recognized himself. The man he had believed was his friend had been the sick fucker who killed Maudette and Dawn. Rene had planned to kill his Gran and Sookie. He nearly succeeded in killing Gran and Ylva. If not for Ylva, his Gran would have been killed and the bastard would have killed Sookie. And tomorrow morning Andy and Bud would have been at his front door and haul his stupid ass off to jail, charged with killing his own family.

Jason took a good look at himself and he did not like what he saw. He was twenty nine years old, but behaved like an eighteen year old boy. He was stuck in a dead end job at the Road Crew, earning just enough to keep himself in beer and pizza and the occasional box of cheap chocolates to impress a woman. And he knew if he kept this up, he will fuck up and get some woman pregnant, only marrying her because he would never allow his kid to grow up without a father and in thirty years from now he would still be stuck as foreman on the Road Crew, stuck in a loveless marriage, old and miserable, wishing that either skin cancer or liver failure kills him.

He wanted to be known more than just the man whore of Bon Temps and the brother of crazy Sookie. Make no mistake, he loves his sister and there had always been days he wished that Sookie was normal, but he loved her wished her all the love and happiness in the world.

For the first time in years, Jason prayed and he really believed, he needed the help and guidance to change his life.

“Thank you God, Jesus, Mary, Joseph, all the angels and saints, Allah, Buddha, Superman, Batman, Homer Simpson and anybody listening. I promise I will do better. I will be a better grandson and a better brother and a better friend. I will not fu… sleep with every woman I see. I know that now, every time something has gone wrong in my life, it was because I had been thinking with my pecker. All I ask for is just a sign. Show me the way…”

A sudden noise from the living room made his breath hitch. He silently begged and hoped that this would not turn out to be one of his episodes of missing time. Entering the room he noticed that the front door was still locked and bolted. The windows were still shut. The backdoor locked and secure. Nobody had entered his house, but he was still unsettled. The TV was switched on and he remembered switching it off when he went to take a shower.

Jason was rattled and afraid and frozen on the spot. He stared at the remote, wanting to switch the TV off, but too afraid to do so. With his eyes still full of fear an advertisement started. The face and voice of Steve Newlin filled the living room and Jason knew exactly what he had to do. The sign he had asked for had been delivered. Somebody had heard Jason Stackhouse’s heartfelt plea and answered.

******

Arlene opened her front door. She was gearing up to rip Rene a new asshole. She does not really mind if he goes out and drinks a few beers with his friends. But why, for the love of God, does her idiot fiancé always forget his keys at home? And why tonight? With Jason already in trouble with the law for the murders of Maudette and Dawn. It just did not seem proper. What would people think? His best friend in deep trouble with the law and him having a blast with his buddies.

“Now look here Rene…”

It was not Rene behind the door. Bud Dearborn and Andy Bellefleur stood there, their faces as white as sheets and looking like they were about…realization hit Arlene like a freight train. Rene fell asleep behind the wheel of his car and got himself killed. Or Rene, as drunk as a skunk, drove too fast and too reckless, he lost control of the car and killed himself, a nun, Reverend Daniels and the President of the United States in the process. Or Rene saw somebody getting robbed and he just wanted to help and now he was dead, killed by some drug addled junkie.

Later, when Bud and Andy had left, Arlene prayed that Rene had been killed because he was driving drunk, even if it meant he killed a nun, Reverend Daniels and the President. At least the people from Bon Temps would not be shocked at the actions of a drunken fool. But no, Rene, her sweet Rene had been a killer. He had killed Maudette and Dawn. He had been planning to kill Sookie. He nearly killed Adele and Ylva. She had slept night after night right next to a man who did all those horrible things. She had made love to him, Arlene suddenly realized that on both nights that Maudette and Dawn had been killed, Rene had really been horny and adventurous in bed. Bile rose up in her throat, but she choked it back down. Rene Lenier had played with her children, he had looked after them. She had left her babies in the care of a killer. Arlene barely made it to the bathroom before she expelled the contents of her stomach.

******

Adele Stackhouse could not sleep. Maybe it was time she moved in with her cousin Betty down in Florida. She was getting to old to live in the old farmhouse. The only reason she had not moved a long time ago was because Sookie had needed her. And she could not let go of the house, the house she had shared with her husband Earl. But Earl was gone over twenty years now, he was never coming back. She knew he was still alive, she would have known if he had died, but he has never tried to contact her in twenty years and nobody has seen him in twenty years. She had to make peace with the fact that Earl did not want to be found. She has been loyal and true to a man who had left her and was probably living with his twenty something mistress in Las Vegas, getting filthy rich using his gift and never once sparing a thought to old and tired Adele Stackhouse.

Jason got their parents’ house, so Sookie would get the old farmhouse. Sookie will be safe there with that nice vampire, Mr Bill Compton to protect her. She just wished sometimes that Sookie would meet a nice young man, one who could marry her and they could be able to have a bunch of babies. But it seems like Sookie had her heart set on Bill Compton. And Mr Compton was not so bad, even if he was a vampire. He was a local boy, had good old fashioned Southern manners and charm. Sookie could do a lot worse than a nice man like Bill.

She also need to apologize to Jason, she had treated him poorly through the years. She knew she had always favored Sookie more than either Jason or Hadley, it was because Sookie had suffered so much with her abilities and she felt she needed to protect Sookie just a little more, love her just that little more. And it made her feel closer to Earl, because Sookie had inherited all of Earls little quirks. There is nothing quite like nearly getting murdered in your own kitchen to place everything in perspective. Instead of trying to help Jason, she spent every day doting on Sookie. It was time that Jason realized he is not stupid and he may not be able to hear people’s thoughts like Sookie could, be he was every bit as special as Sookie was.

With her mind made up, Adele Stackhouse finally slept.

******

In Fangtasia, Eric felt a sudden pain in his left shoulder. His first thought went to Pam, somebody had dared to hurt his daughter. But when Pam had proven to be still in excellent health, he next turned to Godric, who was also still in good health, despite his every growing melancholy. Eric wished Godric would confide in him, allow him to help him, but Godric waved off Eric’s concerns. Growling he started pacing the space in his office. He never liked unexplained surprises. Not since the night his family had been slaughtered in fact.

Maybe he was just frustrated, because somebody has been stealing from him. The money was not the issue, if his wealth could be compared to the Atlantic Ocean, the $60 000 was less than half a drop. Pam spent more than that amount during one of her shopping sprees. So it was not the money that pissed him off, it was the fact that somebody thought they could steal from him and get away with it.

And then there was Ylva, he needed to see her again. There was just something about the human that drew him towards her. He had never felt such a need to be near somebody, to get to know that person. He wanted to make her his, as he was hers. He wanted to show his world to her and share everything of him and himself with her. When he met Pam in 1905 he had felt a pull towards her and his acquiescent to turn her, even though Pam thought she had forced his hand, made him hopeful that she would be his. Even though they had been lovers for a short time after he had made a vampire, it was not meant to be. Make no mistake, he loves Pam just as much as he loves Godric and he would rain pain and misery down on anybody who dares to harm either his Maker or his progeny, but he was not in love with her. 

He could just drive to Bon Temps and surprise Ylva at her job, but he did not want Bill Compton to realize he had taken an interest in Ylva. Compton may think that Eric has forgotten all about him, but he had kept tabs on the obnoxious little shit since the very night he confronted them. He knew that Bill Compton could hold a grudge like it was nobody’s business. He hoarded and protected his grudges more fiercely than a Leprechaun protects its stash of treasure. He would never dare to think to expose Ylva to such a horrid creature as Bill Compton, that horrid little troll of a vampire would not think twice about turning Ylva into his progeny if he had even an inkling that Eric found her pleasant. 

It was driving him wild, the urge to see Ylva, to kiss her, to hold her, to make love with her, because she was not one for fucking. A woman like Ylva does not fuck like an animal, she does not have mere sex, she deserves to be worshipped and being made love to. He could drive to Bon Temps and wait for her at her home, but Bon Temps was a small town and everybody usually knows everybody else’s business in such a small town. And Eric and all of his cars would stick out like sore thumbs in a place such as Bon Temps. He could fly there and discreetly try to visit her after midnight, but Ylva did not seem like the kind of person who would open her door to a man, stranger or no, after midnight.

Which left him with only one choice. As Sheriff he had the right to order any vampire in his Area to obey any and all of his requests and orders, as long as said request or order did not include illegal activities, by both vampire and human law. Since Compton publically declared that Sookie Stackhouse was his human, she fell under the same protocols as dear old Bill Compton. He could order Bill to come to Fangtasia, with his telepath human and assist with his investigation regarding the theft at Fangtasia. Eric’s only hope to see Ylva then would be that Ms Stackhouse insists on dragging Ylva with them, which would allow Eric to see Ylva again. It was a shitty plan and a desperate plan, which he would only resort to as a last and very desperate ploy to meet with Ylva again.

******

Lafayette left the house of Eddie. His Monday night customer. He really liked Eddie, the poor fool who spent most of his mortal life in the closet, without even realizing he was in the damn closet. Eddie lived for Monday nights, because first it was CSI and then Lafayette. Eddie was so damn starved for attention, he allowed Lafayette to take some of his blood, never even asking what Lafayette was doing with it. 

Lafayette knew what he was doing was wrong. He was not bothered by his webpage or his prostitution. Selling one’s body for survival was one of the oldest professions in the world. But he did feel bad about the drugs he was selling and especially the V. Getting caught with V (and with the intent to sell) meant both human law and the vampires would be coming after you. And let us be honest with ourselves, a V dealer always prays it was the human authorities who would catch you, because vampires would punish and torture you six ways to Sunday before even thinking of killing you. 

But everything he did, he did for his mother, Ruby Jean. The Lord knows that woman was never fit to be a mother, but she was the only mother he had. When he found her she was sleeping in a box under an overpass. Dirty, starving, ill and close to death. He made sure Ruby Jean received the best medical care he could afford. Which meant he had two legal jobs, short order cook at Merlotte’s and a road crew worker. He made up the difference with his webcam, his prostitution and drug dealing.

Deeply lost in his own thoughts, Lafayette did not see the beat up truck following him from his house in Bon Temps. He did not notice the truck pulling up Eddie’s drive way and two figures exiting the truck. He was on his way home, ready to take a nice hot bath and try to forget all about a lonely and miserable gay vampire named Eddie, well until next Monday that is.

******

Sookie sat in her bedroom, staring at the moonlit yard. If she had not accepted Sam’s offer to go for a cup of coffee, then she would have been home when Rene attacked her Gran. She knew she did not have it in her to fight back, but then again she never even thought Ylva had it in her to fight back. And if she had been home, then Bill would have felt her fear and came to her rescue. But it had all been nearly a moot point. She was once again punishing Bill, he glamoured that cop and stole his gun. Who’s to say that he would not have killed the cop if she had not been in the car with him? Maybe Bill was not the gentleman she had believed him to be.

She shook her head at her own dark thoughts.

“Bill is not like that. He is not like those three wild vampires who invaded his house. He is not like those vampires at Fangtasia. And he is most certainly not like that giant a-hole Eric Northman.”

Bill had told her time and again that he loathed his nature as a vampire, that he hated the fact that he had to drink human blood to sustain himself. He was so heartbroken when he confessed that he had been made a vampire against his will and that he struggled against his very nature. That the only thing which kept him from turning into a true monster, such as Eric Northman, was the fact that he never wanted to be a vampire, that he kept reminding himself of his human life. He shyly confessed that he cried bloody tears of joy and happiness when Tru Blood had been invented. 

Sookie dressed herself in one of her favourite nightgowns. It was long, white and flowing, reminding Sookie of an old fashioned wedding dress. And it may very well be, since vampire / human marriages are still not legal. Tonight was going to be her wedding night to Bill Compton. Tonight she was going to give herself to the man of her dreams, the only man who is worthy of her and her affection. She knew Bill felt the same way she did. He did not even look twice at Arlene, with her vibrant red hair and beautiful body, despite having had two kids. He paid no attention to Dawn, the girl who had been able to seduce men with just the lift of her little finger. He never even noticed Ylva, a girl who is so pretty, gentle and innocent, that even Jason did not think of trying to get inside her panties. Jason who publically announced that if any man even thought of hurting Ylva, he (Jason that is) would rip of the bastard’s left arm and beat him to death with the bloody end. No, Bill had eyes only for her. He did not care that everybody called her crazy or retarded. He did not care that she was something of a social outcast in town.

He was the perfect gentleman towards her and had been so nice towards her Gran. Willing to talk about the Civil War at Gran’s Descendants of the Glorious Dead meeting. He had been so respectful of her and her Gran, formally requesting her Gran’s permission to call on Sookie. Sookie blushed again at his old world charm.

Mind made up and sure she was doing the right thing, Sookie rushed from the house, leaving the door wide open. Not caring if all the critters in Louisiana enters the house. Her skin was heated and the cool night air caressed her blushed skin. The long white nightgown flowing behind her as she rushed towards Bill’s house. The night seemed silent, as if all the nocturnal animals were waiting, breathless with anticipation.

The wind carried the sound of “Moonlight Sonata” from Bill’s house and with it came Bill, meeting Sookie at the very edge of his property. He scooped her up in his arms, kissing her passionately, leaving Sookie more flushed and so ready. Still kissing and caressing her, Bill carried Sookie towards his front door, kicking it shut behind them.

Bill could not believe his luck when he felt Sookie’s rising passion. He heard her running from her house, waiting until she reached the edge of his property, when he opened the door, meeting her. Lorena had taught him well, how to make a woman believe she was the only one who mattered. What to do, what to say, where to kiss, how to run your fingers through her hair, tugging on the locks, hard enough so that the woman knew who was in charge, but gentle enough not to hurt and be pleasurable at the same time. But what Bill really craved was the feeling of being in charge, the one who would remind the woman beneath him that she was nothing more than a thing to fuck and feed from. He loved the power he had over humans, the smell of their fear, rolling in waves from them, the tears they would cry, the way they would beg and scream and pray. He would always come harder the moment he felt their feeble hearts beat their last.

He kissed and caressed her until she was breathless, flushed with anticipation and the scent of her arousal permeating the air. Tonight was the night he was going to take Sookie Stackhouse and bind her to him. He will forever more be her first lover, the one who took her virginity. He will teach her all the pleasures of sex, he will taste her blood again. It was something he would be able to lord over Eric Northman, because he could see the desire in the ancient Viking’s eyes each time he had looked at Sookie that night in Fangtasia. With Sookie, her talents and her divine blood at his side, all his enemies will fall. He will become King of Louisiana, he will utterly humiliate and then destroy Eric Northman and his whore progeny. He will mark Sookie Stackhouse in more ways than one as his property, as his exclusive pet.

As Bill took Sookie, he smirked above her head at her painful gasps, not once pausing in his thrusts. She will learn to not only enjoy, but crave the feeling of Bill Compton buried balls deep inside her. She will beg him for his undead seed. Finally Sookie rolled her head to the side, exposing her throat, breathlessly begging, “Please, please Bill, bite me.” And Bill did just that, sating more than one hunger at the very moment he released himself inside her.

Later, after he had taken her two more times, Sookie laid spent in his arms. She never realized that sex could be so wonderful, that the feeling of Bill’s fangs sinking into her neck and him taking long and deep gulps from her blood, could be so erotic. No wonder Maudette and Dawn had enjoyed sleeping with vampires.

“Is it always like this?”

Sookie hoped so, she hoped that sex would always be this breathtaking and wonderful. Bill was glad that Sookie could not see his face as a sneer flickered across her face at the little idiot’s question. Sex with her had been adequate, but he will teach her to be better. She will learn to please him, always. Maybe he should forgive her this once, she had been a virgin only two hours ago.

“No,” Sookie gave a disappointed sigh, “it gets better.”

Sookie squealed and giggled like a little girl.

“Bill, now that we are together, and you are drinking my blood … is there anything I can do? You know, to make my blood taste better?”

Bill stroked her back, Lorena had told him that women loved to cuddle after sex and they loved being held and gently stroked.

“You don’t need to Sookie,” it did not even bother Sookie that Bill mangled her name, making it sound like Sookeh, “but you can take Vitamin B and iron supplements, to help with replacing the blood I took. As for food, stay away from anything unhealthy and deep fried. Add more red meat, fresh fruit and vegetables, but stay away from fish and garlic. I hate the taste and smell.”

Sookie just nodded, making a mental list of everything Bill had told her. She was completely under his thrall and he did not even need to glamour her.

******

“Hilda, I need you and Thorsten to integrate yourself with the supernatural community.”

Hilda shook her head, it was not that she was uncaring and wanted harm to come to Ylva. She loved her sister, but Ylva was not going to be pleased. She was going to see Hilda and Thorsten’s appearance as encroachment on her assignment. 

“You know that Ylva is going to be fucking pissed about this? You have to stop treating her like a baby, she is a seasoned warrior, one of the best I had the pleasure of training.”

Ylva’s father sadly nodded his head.

“I know she is not a baby, but she will always be my baby.”

Hilda did understand, she really did. It had been so long since the birth of their son, they had lost all hope of producing another child. And then came the announcement of the royal pregnancy. Feasts and offerings were held in honour and anticipation of the long awaited baby. And as soon as Ylva was born it became clear that Ylva was destined for the Sisterhood. Ylva had proven herself time and again to be a very capable warrior and Hilda had not been lying when she said that Ylva was one of her best. 

“Hilda, you know it is for the best. Ylva will need you, she cannot expose herself too soon. If the wrong people realize too soon who she is and what the Viking means to her, they will murder him, just to hurt her and us. And if the Viking meets his true death, you know it will kill your sister. She will not survive the loss. You know this to be true, so please.”

He was begging, something he never did. Ylva’s father never begged, he never apologized, but for the sake of his Ylva and her happiness he would beg and plead and crawl on his hands and knees.

Hilda nodded, “We will leave immediately, but you will explain this to Ylva.”

Hilda and Thorsten left the throne room. Ylva’s father sagged on his throne, all had nearly been lost. If he had not sent Ylva back, Eric Northman would be lost to her. He shuddered when he remembered the future he had stopped from happening, Eric would have fallen under the thrall of Sookie Stackhouse, only to be betrayed by the halfling time and again, the pain, suffering and loss he would experience. Neither Godric nor Nora’s survival was certain, but Eric would recover from the pain, but only because Eric had believed he found his other half. And the betrayal by Sookie Stackhouse would have damaged the proud and strong Viking. The devastation caused by the false feelings for the halfling would destroy the vampire and in the end would have destroyed his daughter.

He never should have left the mortal world to their own devices, but at the time he had believed it was for the best. Soon his magic would be replenished and he would be able to open the portals to the mortal world fully. Soon he and his people would rid Earth of a foe they did not even realize they have. It would have been done by now, but he had been more than happy to expend a great amount of magic, just to ensure his daughter’s happiness.

******

“You ready to leave Ylva?”

Jason balled his fists when he saw the damage Rene had caused. The poor girl looked like got hit by a truck. He could not believe he had been so stupid, maybe he was as stupid as his Gran and Sookie always tell him he is. He had trusted Rene, he had been friends with the man ever since he moved to Bon Temps a little over a year ago. He had welcomed him into his house, he had dinner with the man. He treated him like a brother. And this is what he had done. The women he had killed, the women he had planned to kill. What was worse, Rene had been more than willing to see him go to prison for the crimes he had committed.

Ylva grimaced when she heard Jason’s thoughts. He was not as stupid as he believes and certainly not as stupid as Sookie and her Grandmother had made him believe he was. Did he make stupid decisions sometimes? Sure, but so does every other person out there. Both women had been telling Jason he was stupid for years. So why would he not believe them? Ylva knew that Adele had always favored Sookie above her other two grandchildren. She did not want to hear when Hadley tried to tell her about Uncle Bartlett. And yet she wonders why Hadley had become the town slut and later addicted to drugs? Even after Adele caught her brother molesting Sookie and banishing him from her life, she still refused to believe Hadley. She only consoled Sookie, refusing to acknowledge that Bartlett sexually molested and raped Hadley.

Jason had always been the one to defend Sookie against those who made fun of her, who ignored her and bullied her. Whenever Sookie came home from school, complaining that the other kids had called her names or refused to allow her to play with them, Adele would console Sookie, telling her favourite grandchild that the other kids were nothing but small minded little bigots and idiots. Which had in some cases been true, but Sookie certainly did herself no favours by blabbing out everybody’s secrets. Sookie certainly would not have liked it if one of the little Annie Bradley told all the kids that Sookie still wets her bed or if little Tommy screamed at the tops of his lungs that he was going to tell everybody that it had been Sookie who threw a brick through the school principal’s front window? Everybody had their little secrets, some more harmful than others, and the fact that Sookie could hear everything, did not give her carte blanche to expose it. And every time Sookie started trouble by blabbing the other kids’ small shames and secrets, Jason had been the one left to defend his sister. How many times did Jason come home from school, bruised and bloody, because he was the only willing to stand up for Sookie? And not once did Sookie thank him and not once did Adele console Jason.

Adele certainly did not notice the unhealthy interest one of Jason’s teachers took in him. She did not acknowledge that the woman had been a sexual predator, who took advantage of Jason and his insecurities and made him believe that the only thing worthy about him was the organ located between his legs. Afterwards, Sookie did blab to her grandmother, but instead of filing charges against the teacher, Adele Stackhouse berated Jason and blamed him for taking advantage of a poor defenseless woman. What chance did a hormonal, insecure fifteen year old boy have against such a predator?

When Ylva saw Jason’s darkest and deepest secret she had wanted to slap both Adele and Sookie. Or just shake them until whatever passed as their brains rattled back and forth inside their empty skulls. Rape was rape. And the victim was not always the female and the aggressor was most certainly not always the male.

But it did not mean she regretted in saving Adele Stackhouse’s live. At least she now had the time to make things right with Jason, time she would not have had, leaving Jason hollow and broken behind, certain that he was nothing more than a great disappointment to his Grandmother.

Ylva gave a friend a smile, which morphed into pained grimace. She forgot about her split lip and puffy mouth. When Ylva looked in the mirror this morning, she really wished she could have taken the time to really torture Drew Marshall, her swollen mouth made her look like one of those vapid Hollywood starlets or the so called “Real Housewives” with their lips filled to obscene levels with Botox. She knew that she had no reason to complain about the shape of her lips, but she would rather spend eternity with razor thin lips than walk around with lips that made her look like Donald Duck.

“Thanks for picking me up, Jason. I think my car is still at your Gran’s house. Do you know if your Grandmother is still in the hospital?”

Jason nodded, “Yeah, I just visited her, before coming for you. The doctor said that Gran have to stay a few days longer, but she’ll be fine. She did say she wanted to talk to me and Sookie when she comes home. Ylva, I can never thank you enough for what you did for us. You saved Gran and nearly got killed for it. If there is anything you ever need me to do, just ask and I’ll do it.”

Ylva hugged her friend, she picked up a stray thought in his head, the smug faces of Steve and Sarah Newlin. She trusted Jason, she knew he would do the right thing.

“Don’t worry about it. That is what friends are for right? Jason, just promise me you will be careful?”

“Don’t worry about me. You know I’m like a cat, always land on my feet. Besides, I’m too stupid to do anything really crazy. And I would hate to mess my pretty face up. Speaking of pretty faces, what the fuck did that bastard do to you?”

Ylva brushed a hand across Jason’s cheek, “Oh Jason, you’re not stupid and you are so much more than just a pretty face. Stop believing people who tell you that. You are brave, loyal, kind and smart.”

Jason kissed the top of Ylva’s head. She was the only female friend he had ever had in his life. Tara did not count, she was like his own sister to him. Sometimes he wished he could love Ylva like a man should love a woman, he loved her, but he was not in love with her. But Ylva Grimm was not for him, she was still so young and innocent, yet strong and sometimes seemed years older than she really was, but men like him were not for the likes of Ylva Grimm. Someday he was going to find his other half and so would Ylva. He just knew that Ylva’s other half was somebody who was strong and smart. Somebody who would be Ylva’s equal, because she was no wilting Southern Belle, dreaming of her very own knight in shining armour.

Jason had just left, when the first visitor showed up. Sookie came bearing gifts of flowers, chocolates, a fruit basket and her memories of her night with Bill. Ylva appreciated the flowers, the chocolates and the fruit basket. She could have done without the onslaught of Sookie’s memories regarding the loss of her virginity. She most certainly could have done without ever seeing Bill Compton’s naked body and the sight of his Orgasm Face. 

Sookie nearly choked Ylva as she hugged her.

“Oh, honey, thank you. Thank you for saving Gran. I don’t know what I would have done if Rene had killed Gran last night.”

“Sookie … you’re choking me,” Ylva managed to gasp. 

Tears welled up in Sookie’s eyes as she saw the damage Rene had done, “Does it hurt?”

Ylva wanted to roll her eyes. What did Sookie think? OK, yes, she had suffered worse injuries in the past, but because of her mission, she was not able to heal as fast as she should.

“It’s nothing Sookie, don’t worry about it.”

“Of course I’m going to worry. Maybe we can ask Bill for a bit of his blood to heal you…”

“No!”

Ylva had not meant to scream, but there was no way she was going to allow Bill Compton and his fucking blood anywhere near her. She would rather walk around looking like a Victim #3 in a slasher movie, than allowing Bill Compton to get his blood inside her system.

“Sorry, Sookie, I did not mean to scream at you, but…” Ylva’s voice cracked and her left eye glistened with unshed tears.

“Bless your heart, Sugar. I understand, you don’t need to feel guilty. You saved Gran, you saved yourself. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Sookie knew what Ylva was feeling. The poor girl felt as if she needed to be punished because she had killed Rene. She wish she could help her young friend understand that Rene was a bad man and he had deserved everything that came his way. Sookie had just wished she and Bill had been there. She was certain Bill would have drawn out Rene’s punishment for much longer.

Sookie was still holding Ylva’s hand, trying to comfort her, when Lafayette showed up. Close on his heels came Terry Bellefleur and Sam Merlotte. Lafayette brought her a special made plate of food, announcing “Now baby girl, Lala knows that you must be starving. Hospital food is not fit to be feeding dogs.” Terry did not say anything, he just hugged her. But then again Terry never said much, he just offered his silent support. Sam told her not to worry about her job, all she needed to worry about was getting better. Jason returned, dragging Hoyt with him. They went to retrieve her car and Hoyt wanted to make sure Ylva was going to be fine, he had a crush on Ylva ever since she moved to Bon Temps, but had always been too shy to ask her out.

Jason saw the puppy eyes Hoyt made in Ylva’s direction. He may not be able to read minds like Sookie could, but he knew his friend had a crush on Ylva. Hoyt was a good man, a solid man and someday he was going to make some girl the luckiest girl on the planet. But that girl was not going to be Ylva. It was not that there was something wrong with either of his friends. Hoyt was a good man and he deserved love and happiness and someday he will find the girl that will love him back and give him the courage to stand up to his mother.

The final visitor for the day had been Arlene, she rushed into the house. Tears streaming down her cheeks, apologizing for the pain Rene had caused Ylva. When she finally noticed the Stackhouse siblings, she broke down in sobs, once again apologizing and finally giving Sookie permission, if she ever dates another man again, to read his mind and tell her all his dirty secrets. She was tired of all the wrong men she had been with through the years. Ylva just hoped Arlene would finally take notice of Terry, the poor man had been in love with the red head for years and would cut out his own heart, before ever hurting Arlene.

It was long after midnight when the majority of Ylva’s visitors left, something for which Ylva had been glad. She would have been happier if Lafayette had also left, she wanted time to herself and wanted to visit Fangtasia again, without Bill Compton lurking about. She had not been lying when she told Andy she wanted to change shifts with Sookie. 

Besides her planned clandestine visit to Fangtasia, she knew that Sookie needed the every last dime she managed to earn at Merlotte’s. The Stackhouse family had been struggling for years. By the time Earl Stackhouse had been kidnapped by Queen Mab twenty years ago, the couple had been barely able to make do. Those days women rarely worked and rarely after they were married. Back then married women were expected to keep the house running, raising the children and be active in the church. But Adele Stackhouse had made due with what she had. There had been times when Ylva had been tempted to tell Adele Stackhouse that her beloved Earl was not living it large in Las Vegas with a twenty year old bimbo, whose bra size may very well exceed her IQ, but instead held captive by a demented Queen Mab. The problem was that Earl Stackhouse will never be able to return to the mortal realm, he had been eating the food Mab was providing, to return home would mean a very painful and horrible death. Not that Mab had anything good planned for him and all the other halflings she was holding captive, but still.

Sookie’s parents were not better off. Michelle Stackhouse had damn near bankrupted them. Dragging Sookie from one psychiatrist and therapist to the other in a futile attempt to cure their daughter. After their deaths, all which had been left was the house and a small savings account. Ylva knew for a fact that the Stackhouse house on Hummingbird Lane was falling apart, it had not been painted since before Earl Stackhouse had disappeared. Everything in the house, from the wiring down to the appliances were severely outdated. If not for the fact that Adele kept a damn near sterile house, mold and pests would have destroyed the house years ago. They were behind in their property taxes and every month had been a struggle to keep the lights on in the house. But Adele Stackhouse had been proud, she refused to accept charity from her friends, she remained positive and never let on that she spent most nights worried about their financial woes.

Ylva on the other hand did not need the tips. She did not even need to work at Merlottes. She most certainly did not need to hear Sam’s pervy thoughts and showcasing her body to every day in what Sam had believed to be appropriate attire for his female staff.

What she did need was to blend in with the local population and blending in meant working, earning money, trying to get on your own two feet. Blending in meant driving a very obvious second hand 1977 Camaro (at least it was not fucking yellow like Sookie’s piece of shit Honda Civic). Blending in meant she had to present herself as a normal young woman, who need to work for a living, since a single girl, with no obvious means to support herself, would have set the tongues wagging in a tightknit and fairly traditional community such as Bon Temps. 

It was almost a week after the attack when Sookie invited Ylva to dinner. She never had the chance to slip away to Shreveport, since Lafayette stayed as a house guest, certain that Ylva must be suffering from horrible nightmares and wanted to be there to comfort her and help her. His offer was sincere and Ylva could not deny her friend. And so she allowed him to stay over, it unfortunately meant she had to toss and turn and pretend having nightmares, but still she enjoyed Lafayette’s company.

Ylva hoped that Bill would not be present at dinner, but she had to mentally prepare herself to be forced to endure his company that night. Since Sookie lost her virginity, she and Bill had been going at it like to very horny rabbits. Each morning as Sookie came to check in on Ylva, Ylva was nearly overwhelmed by Sookie’s highlight reel, starring a love struck Sookie Stackhouse and an even creepier than normal and very naked, disgustingly so, Bill Compton.

Dinner had been painful. Adele and Sookie were a bit out of sorts, apparently Adele had informed Sookie and Jason that she had decided to move to Florida to live with her cousin and Sookie had not taken the news kindly. To make matters worse, Sookie had caused yet another uproar in Bon Temps when she strutted around with Bill’s bite marks on her neck. Why the lazy douchebag did not heal Sookie was something that Ylva could not begin to understand. From what Lafayette had told Ylva, it had been Sam who noticed the little scarf around Sookie’s neck and did not believe her song and dance about the scarf as nothing more than a fashion accessory. Sookie proceeded to rip the scarf from her neck, exposing the angry red bite marks and informed everybody in Merlotte’s that yes she had been having sex with Bill Compton and that she allowed the vampire to feed off her. She ended her little show and tell by screaming that she loved it when Bill bit her and she enjoyed the sex and it had nothing to do with the ignorant folk in Bon Temps. She stomped out of Merlotte’s, screaming that she was going home and there was nothing Sam Merlotte and the inbred masses of Bon Temps could do about it.

Bill sat at the dinner table, open bottle of TruBlood in front of him, not that he even had the decency to drink the damn thing, not caring about the cost and the money Adele had spent to make sure he had something to eat at dinner. He sulked even more than usual and when Ylva scanned his mind, she quickly learned the reason. Vampires had to obey human laws, ever since they exposed themselves, but long before that, Vampires lived by their own rules and laws. Laws which were near medieval in practice. Vampires had to abide by the laws and whims of the Authority. The Authority ruled with an iron fist. The Tribunal, run by the Magister was the vampire version of the Supreme Court, the Magister travelled around the world, passing judgment on vampires who broke the law. Punishment handed down by the Magister was absolute and could include the removal of fangs to the true death. Every state in the US had been divided into kingdoms, with a monarch ruling the state, passing laws, collecting taxes and maintaining peace. The Authority appointed the monarch and the monarchs had to pay fifty percent of their taxes collected to the Authority. To help the monarch govern, every kingdom was subdivided into Areas and the monarch appointed a Sheriff to maintain law and order in that Area. It was the Sheriff’s responsibility and duty to maintain law and order and collect the taxes from the vampires residing in the Area. As Sheriff of Area 5, Eric Northman was well within in his rights to demand any and all assistance from the vampires residing in his Area. Since Bill had publically claimed Sookie to be his and Sookie had agreed to the fact that she belonged to Bill, Eric could (and did) command Bill to come to Fangtasia and bring his human along to assist in an investigation.

Bill sat at the dinner table, fuming. How dare Eric Northman order him as if he was nothing more than a common vampire? Of course Eric did not know that he was on business for their Queen and neither did he know that Bill had the protection of Nan Flanagan. It rubbed him the wrong way that the Viking could still order him around and treating him like dirt. He should have refused to take Sookie to Fangtasia, but she insisted. He was angry because he never believed he would have to work so hard to gain the trust and affection of a human. He never believed that Northman would dare to order him around. But Northman did and he had to comply. Refusing an order from a Sheriff would have involved the Magister. And not even Sophie Ann or Nan would have been able to help him. The Magister was the only vampire who was truly independent and free from the iron fist of the Authority. If only he had not been so foolish to proclaim Sookie to be his, but at the time he only thought of rubbing Northman’s nose in the fact that his human, his pet, was such a delectable little morsel. What did he care about the theft at Fangtasia?

At least he had been able to convince Sookie to tell Ylva that she would be coming with them. Ever since Sookie let slip of Ylva’s own ability to read minds, Bill started plotting and planning. He could have it all. He can ship Ylva off to Sophie Ann, the human’s blood even smelled better than Sookie’s and Sophie Ann could deal with the troublesome human. He would have Sookie all to himself. He dreamed of the money he could make from Sookie and her abilities. Soon his fortune would rival and finally outstrip the fabled fortune of Eric Northman. He would be the richest and most revered vampire in the whole world. One day all of the ancient vampires would fall at his feet, chanting his name, praying to him, revering him. He was going to rule them all and bind every last vampire to him in servitude.


	3. Chapter 3

Jason packed a bag, softly humming and whistling as he finished. His thoughts drifted towards his stay in the cell at the Renard Parish Sheriff’s Department. Knowing that he could not have murdered either Dawn or Maudette, but nevertheless doubting himself. Because he was so unsure himself. Because of the lost time. If he zoned out and forgot hours at a time, not knowing, not remembering what he did, only the deep shame and the feeling of being dirty, then he could have killed Dawn and Maudette and not even realize it. He was afraid of himself, he was afraid of what he could do to his Gran, to Sookie and to Ylva. He had begun to believe that maybe he was a monster, one who could go around and murder women and find the experience so unremarkable that he was able to forget all about it.

He felt ashamed that he never even suspected Rene. He never even realized that the man he had called his friend, the man he had spent evenings with, laughing, joking and drinking with had been a monster. He remembered all the jokes he shared with Rene, every minute Rene had spent at his house, sitting at his table, drinking his beer, eating his food. The mere thought of a man, no a monster, like Rene, being invited into his home, made his skin crawl. He wondered how Arlene felt. She shared a home and bed with Rene. She allowed Rene close contact with her children. He shuddered at the thought how Arlene must feel. Knowing that even after Rene had murdered both Dawn and Maudette he had crawled into bed right next to her. The bastard had most probably still been on a high after committing the murders, flying high, suppressing the urge to proudly proclaim that just like that Hollywood actor, he was winning and had tiger’s blood running in his veins, whatever that may mean.

Jason also remembered the visit from the slimy man. The one who tried to stroke his ego. The man who told him that it would be a travesty if a court found him guilty of murdering women who sold their souls to the devil and his minions. He remembered the fevered gleam in his eyes, as he bitched about the fact that good Christian men and women were being punished for doing their sacred duty, for doing God’s work and how his church would be more than willing to pay his legal fees. Jason may not have been one of the best and most devout Christians, he was certainly not living up to his Gran’s standards of living an honest and good Christian life, but he knew that murder was evil. And that murdering Maudette and Dawn was evil, no rational person would go around murdering women just because they enjoyed having sex, even if sex had been with vampires. Their sexual partners had been their choice and it had been consensual sex between two consenting adults. Having sex with a vampire may not be his choice, but saying that it was alright to kill people just because they had fallen in love with a vampire, or even just had sex with one, was just one step away from lynching interracial couples or same sex couples. Then there was also the fact that the only vampire he had been exposed to was Bill Compton and there was just something about Bill that freaked him out. It was not that Bill was a vampire or even a man, there was just something about Sookie’s neighbor and lover which unsettled Jason and made him feel as if a thousand ants were crawling over his body, biting as they go.

At the time Jason had been too distraught to really listen to the man, but he now remembered. His visitor was a member of Steve Newlin’s church, The Fellowship of the Sun. After Jason saw the segment on TV, with a beaming Steve Newlin preaching the gospel according to Steve Newlin, twisted and demented as it was, he knew what he had to do. 

He had already quit his job, no matter what happens next, he will never return to that dead end job. He promised himself that he will get his life together and start preparing for the future, and his future was no longer clearing road kill from the roads, cutting low hanging branches from trees next to the roads and whatever job came their way. He would no longer spend his days, burning himself to a crisp, bored out of his mind, watching a bunch of sweaty men, as if he was the world’s most perverted and desperate Peeping Tom.

An hour later he was in his truck, on the road, on his way to Dallas. He made a quick stop at an anti-vampire gun store, a place he knew sold more than just ammo and weapons. The owner of the store was clearly a Newlin fan and stocked bibles, memorabilia (supposedly blessed and approved by Steve Newlin himself) and CD’s and DVD’s containing sermons by Steve Newlin. He made sure to buy every CD, a bible, a cross (silver of course) and quite a number of items which would identify him as a rabid and devout follower of Newlin. He needed to integrate himself wholly with Newlin and his church. He needed to make the demented preacher believe he was as much of a believer as he was.

There was no doubt in Jason’s mind that Steve Newlin was a deeply disturbed man. A deeply disturbed man who was able to influence a lot of people with his honeyed words. Steve Newlin reminded him of something he had read long ago. A question as to the difference between a nut and a fanatic. The answer was that a fanatic was a nut who had something to believe in. And Steve Newlin was most certainly a fanatic. The man was nuttier than his Gran’s fruitcake and was unfortunately in a position to not only spew his vile views, but was more than able to call other nuts, fanatics, the scared and the gullible to his banners.

And anybody who believed that somebody like Steve Newlin would never be able to change the course of history, has most certainly forgotten that a silver tongued man had once been able to influence the masses and brought the world to the brink of destruction. 

Hitler had risen to power when the German people were lost and down trodden. He had been able to convert, at first, only a handful of people to his cause. But as time went by, more people listened to the bullshit he had been selling. And Hitler had most certainly been blessed with a silver tongue. He had been able to restore a sense of pride in the German people and then he had been able to twist their minds with his sweet lies, promising them that he was the only man able to rescue them, that he knew who was to blame for their misery and poverty, who was to blame for all the misery and evil in the world. With his words alone Hitler had been able to turn a nation of stoic and rational human beings into rabid monsters, foaming at the mouth to rid not only themselves, but the whole world of the great evil who was there to destroy them and drag their souls to hell.

People seemed to forget that history has a way of repeating itself. And little dictators in the making, such as Newlin, was quick to find a culprit. One who was to blame for humanity’s misery and suffering. If it was not Jews, it was those of a different racial group than your own and if not people of a certain skin colour and interracial marriages, it was gay people. Jason was fairly certain that before vampires came out of the coffin, the Newlins have preached against gays, how gay people was an abomination and that they were destroying the sanctity of marriage and corrupting the youth, how gay people should never be allowed to marry and raise children. Which was just bullshit to Jason, why should they not be allowed to adopt a kid or even having their own? They would actually want the child, they would plan for their child and make sure that they are able to properly care for their child.

One just had to look at Tara before realizing that if gay people had been allowed to adopt children back then, and somebody had actually cared enough about Tara and had removed her from her abusive home, Tara could have been adopted and received all the love and care she deserved. And so what if her new parents had been two men or two women? Ask any child that had been removed from an abusive household and raised by people who wanted them, who loved them and who cherished them and they would tell you they did not care one damn if their parents were different from them. Being gay does not automatically make you a pervert or a pedophile. Being gay is not a disease. It had always tickled him pink (he grinned as he used one of his Gran’s old sayings) that some people believed that being gay was a modern thing. That there had been no gay people running around since the dawn of time. Maybe if people stopped treating sex between consenting adults as the disturbed and deformed stepchild to be locked away in the basement, then the world would be a better place. 

It had dismayed Jason when he learned just how large the Fellowship of the Sun had grown. How powerful the church had become in such a short amount of time. He was sad to realize just how many people were so gullible and weak-minded, being swept up in the hateful words of Steve Newlin. But he also knew that fear was a great motivator, fear of the unknown, fear of knowing that childhood monsters may very well exist. Jason was not stupid, if vampires existed, who was to say that werewolves, zombies and ghosts did not exist? Maybe they just lived in the shadows, not yet ready to expose themselves. 

And it was that primal fear, the fear that the monster from your childhood closet may very well exist which allowed Steve Newlin to gain momentum. He preyed on their fear. He made his followers believe that if something goes bump in the night and scared your child, it was not just a tree branch knocking against the house, but in fact a vampire trying to steal your precious offspring.

It was just past ten in the morning when Jason turned into the grounds of the Fellowship of the Sun, the grass green and lush, the gardens well kept. The morning sun shone and glittered over the church. The grounds and building really were beautiful, but Jason could not appreciate the sight. All he saw was the pretty veneer hiding the rotten core, the evil and hatred. He bowed his head, silently asking for strength, begging for protection, begging that if he failed in his task that those he loves will not be harmed by the Newlins. With a final sigh Jason exited his truck, just as the doors opened and a blonde woman came to greet him.

Sarah Newlin. Jason could appreciate her looks, she was pretty and seemed so wholesome, just an all American, honest to goodness girl next door. Her smile was wide and friendly. Her voice just as perky as the bounce in her step. But Jason could not fully appreciate the picture she presented. He may have fallen for her before, but not now. All he could see was the hatred simmering beneath her seemingly friendly personality. The lust barely hidden behind her smile, as she involuntary licked her lips. The insanity and bigotry shining through her eyes.

Jason smiled just as friendly as she did, he turned on his old Stackhouse charm. She was good, but Jason was better. He had always been able to charm his way through life, able to soothe his Gran whenever she had been angry with him, charm a teacher if he forgot to complete his homework, charm his way back onto the team, even though his grades should have kept him off the team, charm his way out of detention, speeding tickets and trouble caused by angry husbands and jilted lovers. 

Within minutes Jason sat opposite Steve Newlin himself. The man tutted and sympathized at the plight of Jason Stackhouse. Falsely accused of murder, even if the women had been whores for Satan’s spawn (Sarah’s breathy contribution to the conversation). Jason used his charm and tricks available in his repertoire, feigning disgust at the mere thought of vampires being allowed to walk around, pretending to be alive, demanding equal rights, being allowed to own property and enter businesses of humans and his utter disgust at the thought of men and women in relationships with those undead spawns of Satan, nodding to Sarah, as if thanking her for correctly identifying and labeling vampires. At the end of the meeting, Jason was not only the newest member of the Fellowship of the Sun, but drafted into an exclusive program called the Soldiers of the Sun, something Jason believed to be nothing more and nothing less than the armed branch of their seemingly peaceful church. Jason had to suppress a shudder, Newlin was busy weaponizing his followers, he was using the more unstable and rabid members of his congregation as weapons and Jason just hoped he would be able to bring Newlin’s racket down before those weapons graduated from paintball guns to the real deal.

******

Sookie was sullen. She hated the fact that Eric Northman would, could and did order Bill and by extent her to work for him. She hated the fact that Bill did not have enough power to defy the Sheriff. She loathed the knowledge that her lover was treated like a little errand boy by the blonde vampire. What was worse, she had just realized that she and Bill were caught in a trap by Northman. She knows that she was ordered to find the thief and in order to find the thief she must read the human employees of Fangtasia. Ordinarily she would be the first to bay for blood if somebody has broken the law. But whomever has stolen from Eric, certainly must have a good reason to have done so. She really don’t believe that the cruel blonde vampire was one to pay his employees a decent salary. Besides, being the monster that he is, Eric Northman most certainly deserves to be robbed blind.

The problem was that if she claims she is unable to locate the person stealing from Fangtasia and thus from Eric Northman, the blonde vampire may just fly into a rage and harm or even kill her. And there was nothing Bill could do to stop him. But if she does expose the thief to Northman, he was going to kill that poor human. And Sookie just could not stand the thought of sending a man to his death. She had asked Bill if she could demand that Northman turn the thief over to human authorities, but Bill just sadly shook his head. 

“The majority of the vampire race, and it is especially true of the older vampires, they love being what we are. They love being monsters. The bloodlust, the power, the darkness that is part of our nature, is what they crave. They have forgotten that they too were once human. They have forgotten their humanity and denies their very origin as human. Eric is one of these vampires. Vampires like me are in the minority. We still know and remember our humanity. We struggle against our very nature, we fight against the darkness in us. We were the ones who had nearly bankrupted ourselves to find a suitable blood substitute, so that we may once again join humanity, as much as we could. We are the ones who advocate mainstreaming and had been working hard to make the Great Reveal work and to convince vampires that we can survive on True Blood. But to answer your question, the AVL has been making great leeway in the old feudal system, which is our world, but remember I told you about the Magister?”

Sookie nodded, she remembered the horror stories Bill had shared about the Magister and his tribunal.

“Well the Magister and the Tribunal are traditional vampires. And to make matters worse, the worst of our kind are part of the Tribunal. I have heard horrible stories and seen for myself, the lengths they would go to. I cannot begin to tell you about the depth of their depravity, nor would I burden a lady such as yourself with such stories. If I was to refuse to assist Eric, he has every right to report me to the Tribunal and if the Magister is in a very good mood I will be punished and sentenced to a hundred years wrapped in silver and confined to a silver coffin. If the Magister is in a bad mood? Then I fear I will face my true death. And with me out of the picture, Eric Northman or any of his ilk will be able to swoop in and claim you for themselves. They would not care to obtain your consent, they would just force them to become their little blood bag, their pet, passing you around, using you, abusing you. Until there is nothing left of you. And I cannot let that happen.”

Bill gave Sookie’s arm a gentle squeeze. He could not believe his luck, the stupid little human believed every word he said, but then again Northman made it so easy to convince this naïve little blood bag that Eric was the Big Bad Wolf and that he was her knight in shining armour. The stupid little fool so wanted a true Southern gentleman to sweep her off her feet. It still did not solve their problem though. He needed Sookie Stackhouse to be compliant. He needed her to believe that he was a gentleman, that he hated his very existence as a vampire, but if Northman kills the thief, then Sookie’s faith in him would be shaken and he would lose whatever chance he had of convincing the human to follow him to the ends of the world.

As Bill was steering the car to yet another bump in the road, he still held out that Ylva would cry out in pain, he suddenly realized he had another telepath on tap, so to speak. How could he have forgotten about her? Let her read Northman’s employees and doom a human to death. With Ylva complicit in the murder of another human, he would have much easier time to convince Sookie to cut all ties with the other telepath. 

Ylva wanted to roll her eyes in the backseat. It really took Compton a long time to remember that Sookie was not the only telepath in the car. The bastard certainly remembered her enough to steer his grandpa car in the direction of every fucking pothole and bump in the road, just to try and illicit a groan of pain from her. She knew she still looked like shit and felt like it too, but at least she was now able to open both her eyes and her lips were no longer swollen, making her face look like a baboon’s ass. But her ribs still hurt and every time the douchebag hit an obstacle in the road, it jarred her injured ribs. She had thus far been able to suppress the groan of pain, not wishing to give the idiot vampire the satisfaction of knowing he had caused her pain. At least he did not pop out his weird music yet. There was no way that Ylva would have been able to survive the trip, not if she had to carefully measure her breaths, brace herself when Compton aimed his car in the direction of an imperfection in the road, keep her composure of being assaulted (in surround sound) by the verbal and mental whining from both Sookie and Compton and being tormented by the screeching of a thousand tortured souls, which apparently passed as music in his mind. Ylva idly wondered how long until the lovers came to an accord to offer her as the proverbial sacrificial lamb.

“Sookie, I hate to mention this, but what if Ylva read the humans?”

Sookie gasped, she could not do it to her friend. But it would solve her problem. And it did seem as if Ylva had been enamored with Eric, just as Eric himself had apparently been taken with Ylva, not that Sookie thought for one second his supposed interest in Ylva was sincere. He had just been too interested her and did seem a bit put out when she proudly proclaimed that she belonged to Bill. But his false interest in Ylva may just mean that Eric may just allow the guilty party to be handed over to the human authorities. If not, then she still wins, because then Ylva would realize that Eric is nothing but a giant a-hole and an evil one at that. She needed to protect her friend from the likes of Eric Northman and what better way than to show Ylva just how wrong Eric is for her if she exposes the cruel and evil nature of the blonde vampire to her innocent friend. And if Ylva wanted a vampire lover, just like she has, she will talk to Bill. He must have vampire friends who are just as honourable and good as he is. Besides she was certain that Eric had only been flirting with Ylva in an attempt to make her jealous.

Ylva read Sookie’s mind and her belief that Bill Compton was honourable and that Sookie wanted to pawn her off to one of Bill’s friends who were just as good and honourable as Sookie believed Bill to be. Ylva had to swallow, so that is what was meant when people said they threw up in their own mouths, because it sure as shit felt like she just threw up a bit in her mouth. It did not help that as Sookie was fawning over Bill and just how happy Ylva would be with a like-minded friend of Bill’s, Sookie remembered their tryst the previous evening. Ylva had seen a lot of horrible sights in her years as a warrior. She saw men trying to shove their intestines back into their bodies, after being eviscerated. She saw a man with half his head gone, still brandishing his sword, attacking his enemies, all while blood and bits of his own damaged brain oozed down the left side of his head. He had dispatched fifteen more of his enemies before his very damaged brain finally realized that he was dead. But she has never seen a naked and panting Bill Compton.

“Ylva, honey, I hate to ask this of you. You have already done so much for me and my family. You saved Gran from being killed and cleared Jason’s name in the process. But now, I beg you, please will you read the humans? I know I’m older than you and I know I’m supposed to take care of you. But I’m afraid. I’m afraid of Eric. I’m afraid of what he’ll do to me if I don’t find whatever he is looking for and I’m afraid of what he’ll do to me if I do find what he is looking for. I’m afraid of what he’ll do to Bill to get to me. And I love Bill, I never thought I would ever find somebody who would love me and I don’t want to lose Bill…”

Ylva had to prevent herself from rolling her eyes, such devotion to Compton. The little flea had been influencing Sookie with his blood the second he had managed to feed it to her. It was still no excuse on Sookie’s part however, her heritage not only protected her from being glamoured by vampires, but it also lessened the influence a vampire’s blood had over her. A vampire’s blood may very well compel a human to do their bidding, if the human was exceptionally weak minded, but with Sookie’s heritage, vampire blood, no matter the age or quantity, would have been nothing more than a suggestion to obey, a suggestion Sookie would have been more than capable to ignore, if she did not want to be enthralled by Bill Compton.

“Don’t worry, Sookie. I’ll do it. I’ll read the humans.”

Ylva was not consenting because she cared one bit about their relationship and Sookie’s false fear of losing her lover. She did care about Eric. And she had heard Sookie’s thoughts. If she either had refused to accompany them this evening or even refused to read the humans, Eric would never find the culprit. Sookie was not about to tell Eric who had been stealing from him. She was willing to allow a thief to get away with his (or her) crime, as long as she believed she could get one over on Eric Northman. 

For a while it was at least silent in the car and Bill even managed to avoid every pothole and bump in the road. Best of all, when Bill did decide it was time to play music, his choice was what he believed to be the soothing sounds of Yanni. It was still shit for music, but at least it was no longer the soundtrack to Bill’s demented mind. Ylva let out a soft sigh of relief. She let her mind slip to her home and her family. Soon enough they would join her and they would finally be able to rid the universe from a scourge which had been allowed to roam free and destroy everything in their wake for far too long.

She had not been born when her family had been forced to abandon the planet, but her father nearly killed himself to create the protectors and contain their old enemy in their own realm. With the protectors in place, her father’s need to recuperate and a variety of wars in other realms, prevented them from returning. But soon, so very soon he will be once again able to open the pathway and they could return to this realm.

******

Hilda knocked on the door. It was such a normal looking house. White picket fence, well-kept lawn and flower beds, the roof freshly painted. One would expect the owners of the house to be a normal middleclass, conservative couple. Or maybe somebody’s much loved and revered grandmother. Hilda knew that the house was neither occupied by a middleclass conservative couple nor by somebody’s doting and loving grandmother.

As the vampire opened the door, Hilda smiled. Who would ever believe that the most feared vampire in the word, known now only as the Magister, resided in such a nondescript house? His reputation would want you to believe he lurked in a crumbling castle, infested with the ghosts of his victims. Or maybe creeped around a graveyard, burrowing each day beneath the dirt, napping with the skeleton in the closest coffin. 

The Magister welcomed his two guests in his house. It had been so long since he last saw them. He feared that they would never return. According to all records the Magister was a petulant and cruel Spanish Monk and inquisitor, Jorge Alonso de San Diego, born in 1484 and made vampire against his will, as punishment for the crimes he had committed during the Inquisition. It was all a lie, the vampire in front of them may have gone by the name Jorge Alonso de San Diego for these past few centuries, but he was in fact much older than even Russel Edgington. The real Jorge Alonso de San Diego met his true death a few months after being turned and the vampire known as the Magister took his place, name and history.

He had been born in Sumeria, ages ago. His human parents named him Dagon. Dagon had been a happy child, born without the pressure of being the firstborn. His life would be his own, he could become whatever he wished, be it a hunter or a farmer. He could marry whomever he wanted. So unlike his older brother. Gilgamesh would become the next king, his life would be in service of their people, he would not even be able to choose his own bride, as his marriage would be one for the betterment of their people. Dagon was also one of the first vampires made. It had been such an honour to be chosen by what his people had believed to be gods. Dagon could still remember the pride he felt, knowing he was chosen to be a protector of not only his people, but every other human on the planet. And as such he had slipped through the ages, working behind the scenes to protect the mortal realm. 

As time passed not all vampires created progeny with care. Some started to believe they were to be the new rulers of the planet and vampires started created progeny with much less care. They started to believe that they were gods themselves and with the influx of fresh vampires with their own memories, religions and other superstitions, their original purpose were forgotten. It was their hubris which allowed a crazy bitch like Lillith to be made. And Dagon’s proud mission grew ever more difficult. As more and more vampires forgot their history and started following the false and dangerous ramblings of Lillith, Dagon had to slip back into the shadows. Time and time again he had to change his name and history. He would search for a young vampire, one whose Maker may have callously released him or one with a Maker just as rotten as he was. Dagon would eliminate the baby vampire and take over his life, with none the wiser. 

Nobody ever knew who the Maker of the real Jorge Alonso de San Diego was and nobody ever came forth. Either his Maker had died before Dagon ended Jorge or Jorge’s Maker had released the Newborn, refusing to even acknowledge his progeny. Dagon believed the second option to be more viable. Jorge Alonso de San Diego had been made a vampire against his will, it had been his punishment for his crimes not only against vampires, but against innocent humans as well. As a monk he had reveled in the pain, misery, torture and degradation during the Inquisition. It was a well-known secret that the cruel monk used to lift his cassock and masturbate whilst their prisoners had been tortured. The miserable shit did not even acknowledge his turning as a punishment, he reveled in his new found powers, but Dagon always believed those who had decided to turn the mad monk should have known the bastard would take cruel enjoyment in his turning. 

After Jorge crawled from the dirt, he made a token effort to rant against his sudden unnatural and unholy state, as if he had not been unnatural and unholy before his turning. Jorge’s dismay at him being now an unholy and unclean creature of Satan had quickly been replaced with not only an acceptance of his status of being a vampire, but enjoyment thereof. He was barely a week old when he returned to his old monastery and butchered every last monk, priest and novate he could lay his claws on. Feeding had not even been his main prerogative, his main goal was to destroy the monastery. The Church made quick work to burn the monastery to the ground, destroying all evidence of what had transpired there and after a quick investigation blame was quickly laid at the feet of Brother Jorge Alonso de San Diego. Jorge did not leave any eyewitnesses alive to name him the murderer, but the Church decided somebody had to be blamed for the massacre and since Jorge’s body was not one of those recovered and since Jorge was very much disliked by his own Church, the choice had been clear to blame the missing monk.

The Church spread the news that Jorge’s faith had faltered and he held an unholy communion with Satan, allowing Lucifer to possess him and desecrate the monastery. The tragedy allowed the Church even more power and sway over the people in their care and even gave second wind to the Inquisition and subsequent witch hunts.

Dagon tracked the vampire monk, it took him a few year, but he finally located the mad monk. Jorge had been young, not even two decades old, but he was strong. His madness, a holdover from his human days, which had been exacerbated by this turning made him strong. The battle had been fierce and brutal, but it mattered not. In the end the real Jorge was naught but a puddle on the ground and Dagon stood standing.

He enjoyed being Jorge, it was getting tiresome to change his name, appearance and history every few centuries. He was neither as cruel nor sadistic as his reputation made him to be, he was always fair and just in his judgement of those who appeared before him. But then again if a vampire was punished, whether it was being defanged or wrapped in silver and shoved into a coffin, they would most certainly moan and bitch about the cruel Magister, who had punished them too harshly.

Smiling at his two visitors, Dagon asked the question he had been burning to ask ever since he saw them on his doorstep.

“Has the time finally come My Lady?”

******

The moment they entered Fangtasia, Bill made a beeline towards the bar, which he promptly leaned against, as if he was afraid the thing would suddenly fall over and only his body, supplying the necessary counterweight, was preventing the disaster. He believed that he looked suave, and the lusty thoughts of Sookie concurred, but to Ylva Bill only looked like a lazy pervert. He was once again dressed in a drab brown suit, which was crumpled. If Homeless Drugged-to-the-Gills Pervert was a fashion statement, then Bill would have been the movement’s poster child, but at least humanity has not sunk that low yet. At least Sookie found Bill attractive and absolutely fuckable, if her thoughts were anything to go by.

Long Shadow was still behind the bar, polishing the glasses to a high sheen. His whole demeanor proclaimed boredom. His attitude made it seem as if he could not give one flying fuck as what was about to happen in the club. One would believe that encountering telepaths was a normal occurrence. Sookie may not be able to read vampires, but Ylva could. And Long Shadow was a loud broadcaster. He may appear to be cool, calm, collected and even a bit bored. But his mind was working overtime.

**What if Eric finds out it was me that stole the money? Maybe I should just come clean and hope Eric shows me mercy. Shut the fuck up Long Shadow. There is no way in hell that Northman will ever show me mercy. It is not as if I have not known from the start that the Viking may forgive a shit load of stuff, but he never forgives or forgets if somebody tried to either fuck him or Pam over. Keep you shit together and be calm about it. Nobody will ever know it is you and you have glamoured Ginger to within an inch of her life. But I heard that Compton’s pet is a telepath? The second she sees Ginger she will read her mind and see that I have stolen the money. Oh for fuck sakes Long Shadow! There is no such thing as telepaths. Compton’s little pet is nothing more than a hustler, just like Compton himself. There is no way in fucking hell that the human can read minds. And even if it was true, I glamoured seven shades of shit out of Ginger. That scrawny bitch can hardly remember her own fucking name now. So keep your fucking shit together and keep the fuck calm. Why did I take the fucking money? It is not as if I need it. I’ve got a good thing going here. Eric is an honourable Sheriff. He does not over tax us like some of the other Sheriff’s do. He protects us against Sophie Anne. So why was I so fucking stupid to take the money? If I get out of this tonight, I swear I will give back the money, with interest and then I’ll just fucking disappear. Because Eric Northman will not forget this. Is it true that the fang on his necklace is made from the fang of the last vampire who thought he could fuck the Viking over? I swear, if I walk away from this shitstorm tonight, I will pay every last penny back. And then leave Shreveport. No, I’ll leave Louisiana and never set foot back here. Fuck, I better leave the United States. I hear that the South Pole is nice this time of year. Maybe I should just relocate to the Mariana Trench and live of whatever the fuck is down there, because there is no way in hell that Eric Northman will ever forgive me and he sure as shit will never stop hunting me. I’m so fucked. I just hope that Compton’s pet is really just a hustler, or if she is the real deal that she will not be able to read Ginger’s mind. I swear to Lilith and Her holy blood that if I escape here tonight, I will make sure to return every last dime, with interest to Eric and I will make a hefty donation to the Authority.**

Ylva wanted to roll her eyes. It had been easier than she thought. Long Shadow must really be shitting bricks right about now, if his thoughts were anything to go by. His devotion to Lilith was a bit unsetting, it was just another thing they had to root out, despite the teachings of the so called vampire bible, Lillith had not been the first vampire, she had not even been turned during the first wave, but nearly a thousand years after the first vampire had been made. Lillith had been nothing but a mentally unbalanced human whose mental instabilities had been exacerbated by her turning. 

Still, Ylva knew she had to go through the motions and read the humans. While there is a handful of people she would entrust with her secret, neither Bill nor Sookie made the shortlist. Sookie has proven that she is more than willing to throw her under the bus and besides, whatever she told Sookie will find its way to the slimy ears of Bill Compton soon enough. Bill Compton was a warning in itself. If that rat bastard ever learned that she could read the minds of vampires as well, he would either kill her (well, try and kill her) or he would start shopping around, trying to sell her off to a more powerful monarch. While it would be fun and no doubt utter satisfying in beating Compton like a red headed stepchild, cleaning the stain he would inevitably leave behind would take years to remove.

Eric knew the second Ylva stepped inside Fangtasia. Nothing in all his years smelled as good, wholesome and tantalizing as she did. She still reminded him of home and his past, at least all the good bits. She made him believe that she was not only his present but his future as well. He wanted to run at full speed, full vampire speed, towards the woman and rub himself all over her, marking her as his. 

Pam smirked a bit as she felt her Maker’s sudden mood. Eric had been in a funk since 1986, ever since France and being dumped here in Shreveport. Lord knows, those few years after their sudden arrival in Louisiana had been rough. The Authority kept a close eye on them. Eric had been banned from making contact with anybody but the Authority and could not even contact his Maker, Godric. Furthermore the Authority kept fucking them in the ass with their exorbitant demand of an 80% tribute from their earnings. Since the Great Reveal, their penance had eased. Fangtasia saw the light of day (someday she will tell Eric that it had been Ginger’s idea), Eric was made Sheriff of Area 5, and even the Authority eased on their penalty, dropping the tribute down to 10%, the same as all other vampires. They dropped off of the radar of the Authority and nobody bothered them in their little corner of Louisiana. But still Eric had been in a funk. Sylvie had not been the first human lover Eric has taken, but none of his previous lovers had been killed by the fucking Yakuza, after he had been forced to choose between his child and his lover. As soon as Eric lost interest in his current flavour, he would glamour her to forget him and move on. All of his previous lovers walked away, living their human lives, none the wiser as to the existence of their ex-lover, an ancient Viking vampire god. After Sylvie, Eric never took another human lover. He had not been celibate, but he never had another lover. He just fucked the human, fed from her, glamoured her and left her After the Great Reveal he even stopped glamouring them. Every fangbangers knew that Eric Northman would choose a human, feed from her and in return fuck them nearly senseless and every fangbanger left satisfied and every one returned in the hope that Eric would choose them again. But he never took another human lover.

Ylva Grimm changed that, Pam could feel it through their bond. The little human made her Maker’s blood sing. Ever since Eric met Ylva, he once again vibrated with energy. She knew Eric, he will do anything and everything in his power to make the girl his. She knew that Ylva was not like the other lovers Eric had taken over their years together, which included Sylvie. Eric will not force the human, he had too much honour for that, but you better believe he will do anything to keep her and turn her the second she consents. Pam knew she was no longer going to be Eric’s only child, but the thought neither bothered nor distressed her.

Ylva’s back was turned to Eric as he and Pam entered. His eyes glittered as it took in the delightful form of the woman. He had to force his fangs to retract as desire filled his body. He wanted to rush over to Ylva and rub himself all over her. He wanted to make her his. He wanted to mark her in every way possible as belonging to him. There would be no doubt that she only belongs to him that even the human males would be able to smell Eric all over Ylva, warning them that even a stray thought of lust in the direction of his Ylva would be offense enough to be utterly destroyed by Eric.

His fangs did drop when Ylva turned around. Part was still lust, but mostly it was anger. Somebody dared to touch her. Somebody dared to harm what belonged to him. Vamping over to Ylva, not caring if he scared Compton’s pet, hell even Compton was frightened at the look on Eric’s face. He needed to inspect his Ylva. He needed to know who dared touch her. He will rip the fucker limb from limb and then send parts of the idiots body to every corner of the United States, fuck the whole world, warning everybody what happens to those who dared to harm his Ylva. She may not know it yet, but she will be his. She will be his lover. They will be one.

Stopping in front of Ylva, Eric did not trust himself to speak at first, he only needed to ascertain that she was still alive. A massive bruise covered her right eye and by the looks of it, her eye had been swollen shut until very recently. Her lips were swollen and distorted her mouth a bit. By the sound of the slight wheezing wet sound her breaths made, at least one of her ribs had been broken. He knew he should retract his fangs. He did not want to frighten her. He never wanted her to be scared of him. 

As Ylva turned around she saw the look on his face. The flash of fury as he took in her appearance, the look of worry as he sped towards her. His thoughts assaulted her mind, him wanting to rub himself all over her, marking her as his, fury at the one who dared to hurt her. His bloody thoughts of exacting revenge on the monster who dared to damage her. She nearly smiled at his murderous ramblings of wanting to rend her attacker to pieces before sending the bloody bits all over the world as a warning never to touch her again. But still she was not scared of the vampire in front of her. How could she be? He would never hurt her, just as she would never hurt him. 

With his fangs still extended, his face locked in a frozen blood thirsty snarl, Eric gently touched her face. His fingers lingering over her bruised eye, before gently cupping her face between his large hands. Eric marveled over the discovery that Ylva was not about to run screaming into the night, as far as possible away from him. 

“Jag mår bra Eric, oroa dig inte så mycket.” (I’m fine Eric, don’t worry so much.)

“Vem gjorde det här? Vem vågarde skada dig?” (Who did this? Who dared to hurt you?)

Ylva leaned into his gentle touch.

“Kimmer du ihåg mördaren som dödade de fangbangers? Han försökte döda Sookie’s Mormor. Jag hände med och han attackerade mig.” (Remember the murderer who killed those fangbangers? He tried to kill Sookie’s grandmother. I happened along and he attacked me.)

Eric snarled, his fangs glistening in the light, longing to rip the bastard’s throat out.

“Vem är han? Var är han?” (Who is it? Where is he?)

Ylva gently stroked one of Eric’s fangs. She was still not afraid of the snarling vampire in front of her. 

“Han är död. Du dödade honom när han attackerade mig.” (He is dead. I killed him when he attacked me.)

Eric spent the next few minutes sniffing and inspecting the woman in front of him. Ylva may have assured him that she was indeed well and healing, but he wanted to make certain. In the background he could hear the sniffing from Compton’s human. She sounded irritated and her irritation and disrespect was beginning to irritate Eric in turn. Did Compton even bother to inform his human regarding the hierarchy in the vampire community? Did he even bother to warn her of the consequences of not only him claiming her as his, but her verbal confirmation that she was indeed Compton’s? 

Immortality was wasted on a being such as Bill Compton. Even he failed to keep still and silent as Eric inspected Ylva. Eric knew that Bill was only partly to blame. It was not as if his Maker came from the best vampire stock herself. Lorena’s Maker was another fool of a vampire who could barely contain his progeny. Barely fifty years after making Lorena, her Maker gave up, driven to his own insanity and depression by his childe. Eric heard the gossip filtering through the vampire rumour mill. Louis’ last night was spent in the company of the vampire king of Malta, after he fed, he kissed the feet of the king, told Lorena he hopes she suffers for an eternity, before breaking the leg of a chair, cackling madly as he staked himself. 

Lorena was lost without her Maker, Louis was the only one who had been able to exert some measure of control her and since he was no more, she careened all over the world, leaving a trail of blood, gore and dead bodies in her wake. Eric would never understand what had driven Lorena to turn Bill, maybe she sensed in Compton a kindred spirit. Just as insane as her. Just as blood thirsty as her. Compton may pretend to mainstream now, he may pretend that he had cut all ties with Lorena. He may even deny the very existence of Lorena, but the cruel, petulant, blood thirsty and callous little shit Eric had met in 1905 was still lurking beneath the surface. Compton had only learned to hide his own nature a little bit better. Compton may whine and bitch that he never wanted to be made a vampire, he may whine that he fights against his very nature as a vampire, he may try to cling to his humanity, but Eric knew Compton better than he even knew himself. Eric knew deep down, Bill Compton reveled in his vampire nature. The only thing he was ashamed of was the first few decades he spent in the company of Lorena, not that he regretted their cruelty and depravity, but the mere fact that Lorena stunted his growth as a prominent member of vampire society.

Being a procurer for a monarch was not really a glowing recommendation on a vampire’s resume. Especially not one like Compton who wanted to ascend to the upper echelons of vampire society. Procures were the bottom feeders of their society. Procurers were always expendable, nobody shed one bloody tear if a procurer met a sticky end. Even as skillful and successful as Compton had been for Sophie Anne, she would cut him loose without a second thought if she believed he was about to damage her standing in society. And since the Reveal, with the humans scrutinizing vampires and their business under the microscope, procurers became even more expendable than before. 

The problem with Bill Compton was that he honestly believed Sophie Anne would protect him. He believed that he was far more important than he was. He believed Sophie Anne valued him and that he was an important member of the Louisiana court. He believed Nan Flanagan would protect him. But the truth was, both Sophie Anne and Nan would hand the sharpened stake to the rioting villagers if Compton ever outlived his usefulness. 

Finally losing patience with Sookie’s sniffing and the mere presence of Bill Compton in his club, Eric turned to Sookie.

“Are you ready to start Miss Stackhouse?”

Ylva touched his arm, “Actually I will be the one conducting the investigation.”

Eric raised an eyebrow, secretly he was pleased with the outcome, since he trusted Ylva more than he trusted Compton’s pet. Without saying another word, Eric showed Ylva to the table he had set up and asked her if she would like something to drink. 

“Just a coke please.”

Sookie opened her mouth, before snapping it close. She wanted a gin and tonic, but Eric had not offered a drink to her, sniffing again when it became clear that the rude blonde vampire was not about to ask her if she wanted something to drink and she would rather chew her own arm off before asking for a drink. The bastard would most probably insist she pay for the damn drink and she felt that Northman should supply the drinks on his own account, since he had dragged them here, forcing her to do his dirty work.

Pam led the first human to the table. It was the accountant who first discovered the theft. He was sweating and wringing his hands nervously. The poor man sat at the edge of the seat, ready to bolt.

**How can I convince Mr Northman I did not steal the money? I was the one who brought the theft to his attention. I like working for Mr Northman. He is not like my other clients, everything is always so orderly here. He never pays my account late, so unlike some of my so-called human clients. I don’t even care that he is a vampire. If my human clients had just an ounce of his work ethic, then my job would a fuck load easier.**

The poor man was sweating bullets. Ylva smiled at him, making a token effort to read his mind. She already knew Long Shadow was the culprit, but while she had the opportunity she was going to read all of Eric’s human employees. Just to weed out the bad apples from the bunch. 

Ylva took his left hand in hers, still smiling and with a calm, yet friendly tone in her voice, asked the question she already knew the answer to.

“Did you steal from Eric?”

“No, I would never.” 

“What do you know about the theft?”

The poor man was starting to sweat again. He kept thinking that she would not believe him. 

“The second I noticed the theft I immediately informed Mr Northman. I know you probably won’t believe me, but I would never steal from my clients and most definitely not if the client was a vampire. Secondly, I like working for Mr Northman. I prefer him over all my human clients…”

Ylva gave the poor man’s arm a gentle squeeze, before turning slightly towards Eric.

“He is not the thief and he does not know who is. He would tell you if he knew or even suspects. He does enjoy working for you and he is telling the truth when he says he prefers you over his human clients.”

Eric dismissed the man, giving him his own reassuring squeeze, before calling the next human.

One after the other appeared before Ylva and one after the other was dismissed. Ylva offered advise to either give the human either more responsibility, if their thoughts warranted the trust, or dismissal if their traitorous thoughts betrayed them. Even the dancers took their turn to appear before Ylva and one after the other Ylva dismissed them.

Finally only one human was left. Pam had to cajole the red headed woman into the room. Ginger seemed dazed and the only time a semblance of intelligence flickered across her face was when either Eric or Pam (but especially Eric) gave her a direct order. She seemed totally devoted and infatuated with Eric, calling him Master and her lust filled thoughts and fantasies nearly drove Ylva to insanity. What she wanted to do was reach over the table and cunt-punt the ditzy bitch to the South Pole, what she did instead was to keep her face calm and smiled at her.

Pam nodded towards Ylva, announcing “This is Ginger.”

Ylva was in fact a bit impressed by Ginger, the woman was a stick figure and could not have weighed more than a hundred pounds, but she more stubborn than a thousand mules, digging her heels in and refusing to budge. Pam had to drag and push Ginger towards the small table.

“I don’t like her Mistress. Why is she here?” Ginger’s voice was high and nasally, whining like a little girl.

“Ginger, I do not care one flying fuck whether you like Ylva or not. What you are going to do is park your skinny ass on the chair and answer all her questions.”

Pam was losing her patience with Ginger. Maybe it was time to cut all ties with her. Ginger had been scatterbrained before she came to work for them and the years of glamouring had not done the human’s mind any favours.

“Ginger!”

Ginger turned towards Eric, devotion shone from her eyes. She would do anything for Master Eric and one of these days he was going to realize she meant to him. In Ginger’s mind Eric was going to wake up one day (well evening) and realize that he was just in love with Ginger as she was with him and he would fuck her and only feed from her and turn her and they would live forever happily ever after.

Eric’s voice turned to honey, “Ginger, you will sit down and answer all Ylva’s questions. You do not want to disappoint me.”

Ginger’s head bobbed up and down, making her whole body shake, “Yes Master. I won’t disappoint you Master.”

With that Ginger plopped down in front of Ylva, but when Ylva reached to touch Ginger, the woman had another meltdown, screeching that she did not want Ylva to touch her. It took another stern “Ginger!” from Eric to settle her down and allow Ylva to take the redhead’s hand in hers. Not that Ylva really wanted to touch Ginger. Fuck knows where Ginger had been before, the woman was a walking STD. But since Sookie believed that Ylva’s telepathy was the same as hers and Sookie could only get clear readings when she touched somebody, Ylva had to pretend that she also need to touch somebody to read their minds.

“Ginger, do you like working here?”

Ginger once again bobbed her head, “Oh yes, I like working here. I really like Mistress Pam and Master Eric…”

Her voice died away as she once again started dreaming about Eric and that fucking throne and Eric fucking her on the throne. Before Ylva lost control and bitch slapped Ginger, before demanding that Eric burned the throne, she asked her next question.

“Ginger, do you know anything about the stolen money?”

It seemed as if saying the woman’s name before asking a question was the best course of action. Ginger tended to ignore questions which did not seem to be directed towards her. Eric should really consider to let the woman go and salvage whatever was left of her mind. But then again, Ginger seemed to be institutionalized. Even if Eric told her to leave, she would most probably just return the following evening, going about her business as if nothing had happened.

“I don’t know anything about any stolen money! Stop touching me. Master Eric, I don’t like her, please tell her to stop touching me.”

Ginger was getting agitated. Long Shadow really did a number on the woman’s mind. He forced Ginger to help him, mind raped her to remove the memories of her handing the cash over to him. She kept thinking how ‘he’, not that Ginger could remember who ‘he’ was, but that ‘he’ would be angry with her and that he would hurt her and she would no longer see Master Eric and that Master Eric would hate her and tell her to leave.

Ylva pitied Ginger more than she would have like, but Ginger was utterly devoted to Eric and Pam (especially Eric). They were the first people to be nice to her, to give her a job and not laugh at her and her devotion to horror movies in general and vampire movies in particular. She knew that Mistress Pam was sometimes very harsh with her, but she still liked the bitchy blonde vampire. She did not even mind the comments Pam made about her, as if she could neither hear nor understand her, but Mistress Pam was bitchy towards everybody, well except Master Eric. And Mistress Pam had protected Ginger on more than one occasion when somebody tried to harm her or even laugh at her. And Master Eric, since the moment she saw him walking towards her and taking the time to kiss her hand (just like one of those old time knights) and seeming really pleased to meet her, she had been in love with Eric. She would do anything for Mistress Pam and especially for Master Eric.

“Eric, it was not Ginger. She knows who it is, but whomever stole the money …”

Ylva hoped that Eric would make the connection, but before she could even utter the words that Ginger had been glamoured, Long Shadow finally lost his shit and leapt across the bar, snarling as he went. He seemed to be lost as to what he had been planning to do, since his thoughts were between killing Ylva and making a run for it, before Eric could realize that it had to have been him who had been stealing. In the end his self-preservation won out and he made a turn towards the exit, dead set on running as fast as he could from Fangtasia and Eric Northman. 

Sookie saw the snarling vampire barreling in her direction, not that she had been in any danger, since Long Shadow had only one thing on his mind and that was “getting the holy fuck away from that motherfucking Viking vampire”, but since Sookie could not read his mind and Ylva did not want Compton to know she could read Long Shadow’s mind, Sookie started screaming. Her screaming triggered Ginger, who also started screaming. Much to Ylva’s amazement, their high pitched screaming neither broke every glass object within a hundred mile radius, nor stripped the paint from the walls. It did however seem to unsettle the fleeing Long Shadow as he seemed to falter and become more than a little disorientated, he slowed down, shaking his head.

Bill sprang into action, worried that Long Shadow was about to destroy his meal ticket, flipped a chair over, broke off a leg and rushed towards the fleeing vampire. Compton was really balls to the wall, fangs out, spit flying, snarling as he sped towards Sookie. Poor Long Shadow did not stand a chance. Long Shadow’s disorientation allowed Bill to catch up to the hapless thief and before the vampire could regain his equilibrium and flee into the night, Bill shoved his makeshift stake into Long Shadow’s heart. A shocked “Oh” escaped Long Shadow’s lips, before he started projectile vomiting blood, all over Sookie and her white sundress, before finally exploding, once again covering Sookie who by now looked like she was auditioning for the role of Carrie and chose the ill-fated prom scene.

A few seconds of merciful silence reigned in the club, as Sookie stood there covered in blood and Long Shadow goop. Her eyes wide, her mouth opening and closing as she stared at Compton and then her ruined dress. Ginger’s eyes were wide and shocked, she staggered towards Sookie, in an attempt to start cleaning up.

**I’ve got to clean this mess. Master Eric will not be pleased. He likes the club to be clean.**

Ginger stopped in front of Sookie and the remains of Long Shadow, her mind working in overdrive. Conflicting messages, sent at a frantic pace in her mind, drove her to yet another meltdown. She wanted to clean the floor, she needed to clean the floor, Master Eric hated the club to be dirty. But she also wanted to scream and run towards Master Eric. The smell and sight of the remains of Long Shadow was disgusting and smelled even worse, making her nauseous.

She swayed for a few seconds in front of Sookie, her mind running a mile a minute, careening between one frantic message to the next (clean the floor – run to Master Eric – clean the floor – scream – run to Master Eric – clean the floor – I’m gonna …), before vomiting on the floor, adding her own contribution to the mess in the club, before she once again started screaming.

Fucking Bill Compton and his ill-advised acts of unneeded chivalry.


End file.
